Galatea
by Sage of Angst
Summary: [To really know someone is to have loved and hated him in turn.] Satoshi swears he knows Krad better than anyone else. [Krad x Satoshi], COMPLETE.
1. Salvaged Dignity

_PROLOGUE_

There lived, very long ago, a great sculptor of Greece by the name of Pygmalion. Though women flocked around him in droves like cattle, he found himself disinterested, driven away by their countless failings and flaws, and turned instead to his art, carving from purest snow-white ivory a figure: a woman so perfect, so beautiful, that he fell in love with the artpiece. However, real as he regarded it, it was not flesh and blood. It was cold to the touch, dead to the eyes, closed to the heart, and yet he loved it still, though it would never return his feelings.

Day by day, he kissed the unyielding lips, he stroked the frozen skin, he caressed the stiff contours and lost himself in the simplicity of it all. And he loved his statue, loved it in spite of itself.

The day of the Festival of Aphrodite came at length, and there in the great temple Pygmalion made an offering and prayed at the altar, "If you can grant all things, you mighty gods on high, I wish, with all my being, to have as a bride…one like my ivory girl." Smiling upon the smitten sculptor, the great Goddess of Love granted him his true wish, and upon returning home, he embraced the statue as he always had done—and lo, it yielded to him!

He kissed the lips, and they flared to life, a blush darkening over the cheeks, and the body molded under his fingers as beeswax in the sun—flesh, alive, warm, throbbing!

His precious vision he'd named Galatea—"she who is milk-white," his flawless beautiful artwork…_given life_…_ given to him_.

* * *

_Galatea _

_First Movement: Salvaged Dignity_

"We gather strength from sadness and from pain.  
Each time we die we learn to live again."

—_Source Unknown_—

* * *

Hiwatari Satoshi had just had about the crappiest day of his life, and for a fourteen-year-old boy with no living relatives, living by himself, slave to a creature sharing his own body, without a soul to care for or to care for him—this was saying something. 

How exactly had his life slipped to this new low? Had he perhaps committed some karmic infraction recently, unknowingly, that he should merit such a blow? Was his life already not _hellish_ enough that whatever gods sat above looking down on him thought, "Well—there's a nice young man who doesn't seem to be suffering enough! Smite!" Damn…

He trudged along the sidewalk from the schoolyard, not bothering to head towards the trolley station, instead opting to walk the few blocks back to his empty apartment, taking in the evening breeze and setting sun behind him. Classes had ended some time ago, but he'd found nothing better to occupy his time with until now than simply sitting on a bench and watching the crowd disperse. A teacher had come along eventually and informed him that they were closing the gates, and students needed to vacate the grounds.

Why go home? It was the same there as anywhere—no other humans around for company, no classmates, no friends, no Niwa, not even Dark to occupy his thoughts. All he had was that cursed voice poking around inside his head, delving into thoughts he considered private. Krad might be able to deprive him of his body, but his mind was one thing he fiercely guarded—however futile that effort might prove.

He could, he supposed, distract himself down at the station—Dark had sent an advanced notice today…he would appear at the Central Art Museum the following Friday evening to retrieve the _Kan no Ken_, the Sword of Foresight. It was part of a cache of special Hikari works forged around a time of great upheaval, as a peace offering to the various warlords threatening their lands. The _Kan no Ken_ would be the first to make its appearance at the museum, followed by a new weapon every month; Dark would certainly not be short on works to target.

The _Kan no Ken_, as with most every Hikari work, had been imbued with the characteristic magic of his family—magic that at once gave to its user as well as took away in its own style. Its wielder could see the outcome of every battle it was raised in, an outcome that could always be changed depending on how the user took action. Quite handy in the clutches of a warlord. But as with every artpiece, this too came with a price, and when the sword foretold its own user's demise, _that_ fate could not be changed.

Gods, Satoshi wished he could change _his_ fate. He didn't need a centuries old rusty piece of steel to tell him his future: he could already see it now. Fated to always be alone in body, fated to never be alone in mind, fated to chase Niwa and never catch him, fated to… Fated to always let him go.

His classmates didn't understand him, his drive for pushing himself on the police force, for idling away hours in a class he'd already passed years ago. And all the adults around him placed him on some high pedestal from which he couldn't get down. Hiwatari Kei was…even more of some sort of _worshipper_ of him, or rather he worshipped what he _was_, reminding him constantly in short, clipped tones that he had a duty to perform for his family. And Krad? Hah—yes, the psychotic blonde demon in his mind was the only one who stayed with him despite what trials he endured, despite how badly Satoshi _wanted_ him to leave.

When had he become so _foolish_?

When had he completely forgotten what his name meant? "Wisdom"? When had he traded his ever-calculating nature that tested and retested every option available to him for a single moment of rash action—action he couldn't retract? When had he let himself become so—so damn _affected_ by those around him? When had he _stopped_ thinking and started…_feeling_?

He couldn't answer any of those questions right now—he didn't care any more. His relationship with one of those closest to him was in shambles now, and for all his education…he couldn't think of how to repair it. In the space of fifteen minutes, all that he'd worked to attain until now—tentative friendships, aloof stature, a place of belonging…gone, along with his self-respect.

Gods, he'd almost _cried_! He—Hiwatari Satoshi, had nearly broken down, at least on the inside. As if he'd have ever shown it on his cool features. Instead, a simple, "I understand…thank you anyways," and he'd walked away. Walked away, from a place to which he could now never return. No, no…breaking down was for at home. For behind closed doors where only Krad could see him, and he could care less at this point what the blonde thought of him. He was tired of putting up masks to hide his feelings.

He hated the Niwas. He truly did. Each and every last one of them. Not because in his veins ran Hikari blood, not because he'd had it drilled into his head for years, to hate them. He just did. He hated them.

And he hated Daisuke most of all. Hated him so fiercely, more than he hated Dark even, more than…more than he hated Krad even…and yet that didn't stop him…

From…

_'_…_Damn you, Niwa_…_'_

* * *

The door creaked open pitifully when he finally managed to drag himself up the stairs and maneuver his key into the lock of his apartment. He easily slipped his shoes off in the genkan and padded across the floor straight for the bedroom. It was barely even nightfall, and yet the past few hours had drained him more than Dark ever had, and he slid silently onto the mattress, shaking the bed frame as he sank into the center. 

On his back, he stared up at the ceiling, face expressionless. His eyes were heavy, and yet his brain refused to slow down and allow him a chance to breathe, to recover lost energy. Neurons fired mercilessly as his mind leapt from one topic to another: Dark's notice said he'd strike Friday at ten o'clock, the apartment really needed to be swept, his rent was due at the end of next week, Niwa was an absolute twit, and Saehara wanted to hold a briefing meeting the next morning…

Life sucked. And he supposed he had his lovely parents, whoever they might have been, to thank for that. If his mother hadn't been a Hikari, if his father hadn't fallen in love—or perhaps they hadn't really been in love; Satoshi found it difficult to picture a true Hikari falling in love.

Even though…well, perhaps it wasn't so difficult to imagine that.

Tomorrow he would wake up, he would get dressed, and he would take a trolley down to the police station. He would sit through Saehara's rundown of how he intended to capture Dark that Friday evening, exactly where he would have men stationed, and how low the probability was that he would escape this time. Satoshi would make an excuse about needing to get to class, and Saehara would apologize, lavishing him with overly-polite speech, and he would leave.

He would see Niwa sitting in his little chair in the front row, off to the left, and he would watch him from the back of the room, and enjoy him squirming under his cold gaze. He would exude indifference from every pore—so what if Niwa knew, now? So what if he made the redhead uncomfortable now? That was what he was _supposed_ to do! To let that boy know that he was watching him _always_, prepared to pounce on him _always_, bound and determined _always_ to carry out his duty…even if that wasn't true.

And perhaps Niwa would try and talk to him, to explain that there were no hard feelings on his part, and he did appreciate "Hiwatari-kun" listening to him all the time—and even appreciated him telling the redhead about his feelings. That it showed they trusted each other, even if their alter egos were enemies.

Satoshi would then glare, toss back a soft, "Whatever…" and walk away, just like always, just like nothing had happened. And he would keep his mask in place and never let it down until he was alone—or as alone as he could be, considering his situation.

But that was all for tomorrow—a wonderful day to look forward to.

Tonight he could sleep and lose himself in the bliss of dreams, praying they weren't reduced to nightmares, for he didn't need anything to make this day worse. Stripping off his overshirt and slacks, he slowly and methodically climbed under the covers and settled down. His mind wasn't racing so quickly now, he almost felt calm.

As he closed his eyes, an unfamiliar sense of serenity washed over his mindscape gradually, like a fog rolling in with the tide. His thoughts became muddled, unable to differentiate one from the other, and just before he slipped completely free of connections to the waking world, a voice he could not hear with his ears whispered lightly:

_'O-yasumi_…_Satoshi-sama_…_'_

* * *

It was, Krad supposed, very late at night—midnight, one in the morning, somewhere around there. The moon had been high in the sky, sailing alongside the twinkling stars, for quite some time, and the entire world, it seemed, was fast asleep. 

Everyone except himself and his host.

Their sleep cycle was usually the same; Krad had arranged it that way so that he could be around the boy as much as possible, always watching over him, always ensuring that he did nothing the blonde would not approve of, always making his presence known lest his precious Hikari ever forget that he was with him, every waking moment. So he was awoken, groggy, in the middle of that night when Satoshi awoke for some reason—not abruptly, really, he simply sat straight up in bed, head rising off of the pillows, and lolling forward dazedly.

He threw his legs over to the side of the mattress and slid down onto the cold wooden floor, walking into the kitchen without bothering to turn on any lights. Krad barely stirred to consciousness, not used to waking up in the middle of the night, and took a moment to register what exactly was going on; was the boy up to get water? Use the restroom?

At first, he stayed silent, sitting in the recesses of the boy's mind as he idly observed his strange movements. In the dark, Satoshi was blind as any human, even given that he didn't need glasses, and he fumbled around the kitchen counter dumbly as he searched for a glass among a row of clean dishes sitting on a towel. He finally managed to brush across one and stuck it under the faucet, turning the water on full blast until the cup was nearly full, then downed the entire contents in a single gulp, as if he'd just run a mile.

He repeated the action, downing this one too, and then refilled it a third time and managed to top off half of the glass before he was finally satiated, breathing heavily. He poured the rest of the water down the sink and set the cup back onto the counter with its clean mates—but not without managing to knock over a few of those mates in the process.

Cursing loudly, Satoshi bent down and rested on the balls of his feet as he felt around on the kitchen floor, searching lamely for shards. This wasn't, of course, the smartest thing to do, and he naturally found those shards and sliced his right hand open in the process. More curses ensued, and he shot back up, cradling the wounded hand by the wrist.

Grunting, he hobbled warily to the bathroom this way, careful to step lightly lest he crush more glass underfoot on the way out, and eased the door open with a shoulder, flicking the light on with his nose as he held his hand.

It was here that Krad's curiosity got the better of him, and he slipped into a form more familiar to him on times he directly addressed Satoshi. Simply by bending the Astral around him to his will, he could fashion an image which perfectly mirrored him on the physical plain. It was a perk of whatever he and Dark could be referred to—they could cast images of themselves which only they and other hosts could see, specifically referring to the Niwa and Hikari hosts. But they could only become, as was implied, image—not true flesh and blood, not without their hosts. Dark and Krad could move only within a certain area of their host, not granted true freedom as real humans.

Still, it was so much more entertaining to feel as if they were two separate beings by adopting this form—he could look down upon his Satoshi-sama with his devilish smile and have the ever-present glare returned him, and it almost felt real…_almost_. And even more so, this way the boy _had_ to acknowledge him, as it was so much more difficult to ignore someone standing in front of you than someone inside your head.

He phased into being leaning against the doorjamb to the bathroom, and watched curiously as Satoshi rushed ahead, collapsing onto the floor right beside the bathtub while still clutching his wrist. With considerable effort, the boy managed to get the water turned on—hot only, for some reason—using one hand and plugged the drain. Krad waited patiently as he looked on intently, curious as to what the boy would do once the water level rose.

A moment later, though, he flinched inwardly as Satoshi plunged his wounded hand into the hot water, watching the steam rise up and fog the mirror behind him. The boy heaved and cried out pitiably in pain, but refused to pull back, and Krad peered down into the water at the blood slowly seeping from the wound and staining the water a deep crimson…the color of the Niwas.

_'S—Satoshi-sama_…_'_ The golden demon actually _faltered_ for words—he'd always been the one with a silver tongue perpetually-laden with blandishments for his Tamer, but tonight he was…disturbed, to say the least. _'Your hand_…_'_

"Leave me be…" came the cold whisper, back still turned to him, "Just…for once, can't you _leave me be_?"

Krad reached a gloved hand out instinctively, even though it could do no good, to chastise the boy and make him face his curse. Overhead, the lightbulb which hung down flickered pathetically. _'You're bleeding, Satoshi-sama_… _Bind your wound. Now.'_ His voice was not the usual light tenor that seemed always laced with laughter, antagonizing Satoshi to no end—tonight, it seemed to actually _command_ his Tamer. _'You've cleaned it, now bind it.'_

A coughing laugh echoed through the empty bathroom, "Cleaned? _This_ is cleaned…?" He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, sending new spurts of bright red liquid streaming into the murky water, and grimaced in pain at the stinging. "No…not cleaned… I'm never clean enough…never clean enough…"

With that, he stood slowly, knees bent as if he hadn't walked in ages, and climbed into the still-steaming water. His skin took on a pink tinge in response to the sudden rise in temperature, a sickening tone coloring his normally pale flesh. His nightclothes soaked up the water, growing heavy and pulling him down as if encouraging him to lie down and forget all his troubles. He sank low onto his back, legs pulled up in the small tub, with his head kept just barely raised above the surface to allow breathing. Shirt billowing up around him, it pulled up a bit and exposed the soft still-pale flesh of the boy's toned underside, the only part not yet stained by the water's hue.

Krad could only stand there rooted to his spot, staring down at the pathetic soul and looking entirely out of place standing in the middle of the bathroom in his long white robes and spick boots. Diverting his attentions once more to the wound, he noted that the bleeding had slowed, but the water was still a muddy reddish-brown hue, discoloring whatever exposed flesh managed to peek out from underneath Satoshi's waterlogged clothes.

_'Will you bind it now, Satoshi-sama? You shouldn't leave it that way_…_'_

A low sigh, "And what would you care…a limb lost?" The life was completely gone from the boy's deep blue eyes, that tantalizing flicker that always rebuffed Krad anytime he tried to get close, the flicker that instead drove him even closer. "What _would_ you care? What would…what…would…" Any other words were lost to oblivion as the eyes slid shut and clenched tight, "What would _anyone _care…what would _he_ care…?"

Krad's worried frown twisted into one of disgust: that _Niwa_ boy again…why did Satoshi-sama _always_ focus on that stupid child who refused to even acknowledge that the two were enemies? Krad had tried to kill him on _several_ occasions—if that didn't make the Hikaris dangerous people, what _did_ then? Always so _nice_ and _trusting_ and—and—_frustratingly innocent_.

But now was not the time to focus on Niwas, so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and turned back to his host. _'Satoshi-sama.'_ He took on a tone which likened him to an adult chiding a small child, and the boy actually opened his eyes and turned a disinterested gaze in the blonde's general direction, arms crossed impatiently —but not quite focusing on him, _'I will not ask again—next time I shall take matters into my own hands: Get out of the tub, bind the wound, and put on suitable sleepwear. Stay in there much longer and you're bound to catch something, a cold or worse.'_

He was fed up with "asking" his host to get his act together, and he'd taken on a snappish, orderly tone, growing angry with Satoshi for taking such horrible care of himself—it _was_ winter, after all, and sitting in a stale bath which was quickly growing cool, not moving, wasn't the best course of action for the boy.

Perhaps he was tired, perhaps he didn't want to fight at such an hour, or perhaps he just didn't care at this point. Whatever the reason, Satoshi _did_ comply with Krad's "request", pushing himself into a standing position and wringing the excess water from his dripping clothes. He slowly stepped out of the tub onto the carpet, getting it soaking wet, and paused in front of the medicine cabinet as he reached in for a roll of medicinal tape, haphazardly binding the wound in silence.

Replacing the bandages in the cabinet, he padded softly into his room, stripping his shirt before he even had crossed the threshold, and stepped over to the closet to rummage through it for more nightclothes.

Krad once again stood in his astral form, leaned against the doorjamb, looking on in casual disinterest—this was a ritual he'd witnessed often before, after baths or showers, though never did he remember it seeming so…_tepid_…

Satoshi had, before, always attempted to keep most of his body covered at all times, being the modest human that he was and ever under the hawk-like gaze of his Hikari curse—though Krad also conjectured it was the only way he could fight back at the blonde, depriving him little pleasures like watching the boy strip.

This time, though, it was as if he didn't even realize Krad was there—didn't realize…or just didn't care. With his back still turned, he stripped fully, removing the soaking bottoms and boxers, then slid into new ones, getting these a bit wet as well since he hadn't bothered to towel off. Under any other circumstances, Krad might have snuck a peek with the lowered defenses, but the atmosphere was just too heavy right now, and such an action would have been…_wrong_.

Voice steady and completely without emotion, Satoshi observed distantly as he pulled up his pants and adjusted the tie on them, still without a shirt, "You always watch me…have you no decency?"

Krad replied simply, not moving an inch from his post, _'When it comes to you, Satoshi-sama, I am all but devoid.'_

The comment which, under normal circumstances, would've drawn quite a rise from the boy failed to evoke so much as a twitch of the lip tonight. Instead, he pulled a shirt from an open drawer and slowly drew it over his head, oblivious to the hungry eyes of his curse falling silently over his back as the muscles tensed with the effort.

Padding over to the bed, he slipped silently onto the mattress and pulled back the covers, settling under them and drawing them back up, not yet lying down, but sitting up with his back pressed against a wall of pillows, knees drawn to his chin. He remained this way for a few minutes of stark silence, staring ahead into nothingness, with neither breaking the stillness.

Krad had only taken a few hesitant steps into the room as he studied his Tamer with the same eyes a scientist might wear when studying a lab rat running through a maze—a look that spoke clearly, "_I_ know what's going on and _you_ don't."

Finally, he tested, _'It's about that Niwa isn't it? You're still brooding over this afternoon, aren't you?' _His voice was hollow, lifeless, as he spit the detestable words from his lips, graceful features twisting into an ugly frown.

At this, Satoshi's head shot up, facing him now for the first time that evening, finally focusing on _him_, just like Krad liked it. The eyes that bore into him were wide and frightened though, like an animal caught under a predator's gaze, _knowing_ it was being hunted—and Satoshi knew that he was being hunted, that Krad would track him and hound him and keep any others from him, knew how he viewed anyone getting close to _his_ Satoshi-sama—particularly Niwa Daisuke. His voice grew frantic and heated, "Krad—! You—!"

_'So it is, then? I see_…_'_ he spoke, as if he had merely said that to determine if that was truly Satoshi's reasoning behind being so depressed at the moment.

"Don't you even _think_ about—!"

_'Calm—calm, Satoshi-sama. Really, I've no reason to try anything on that boy now_… _Now that he's at last traveled beyond your reach_…_'_ The blue eyes fell away, toying with a thread that had unwound itself from the sheets, and Krad smiled, pleased with his deductions, _'You see? I am you_… _There is nothing that you think that can be kept from me.' _The smile fell away when he received no response, and he unconsciously retreated into a lecture-tone, _'I told you it would end this way—I am all you have, all you need_…_and all that is left is for you to simply accept that fact.'_

These cold words, though, fell on deaf ears, and faded away slowly like phantoms into the night. Krad's golden eyes narrowed as Satoshi pulled his knees even closer, burying his face in them as if they could return some comfort to him. He could not look ahead any longer, and instead turned his face away to the rest of the room, which seemed to be lit by the pale, otherworldly glow Krad's astral form gave off. After a moment more of silence, though, apparently his curse grew tired of the effort put into maintaining the image, and abandoned his form, retreating silently into his nook deep inside the boy's mind to await the coming morn.

The illusion that he was alone at last seemed enough to stir Satoshi to life, and in a soft, quavering voice, he spoke into the empty room, "Am I…really that bad?" Ignorance truly was bliss, and as he expected no answer, he received none. "…Am I…?"

_"Hiwatari-kun! Hiwatari-kun!"_

"…No…no, don't…don't say it…"

_"Hiwatari-kun! Riku-san—she—!"_

Satoshi covered his ears in desperation to drown out the voice of Niwa Daisuke—the voice which existed now only in his memories of the earlier afternoon. So cheery, so excited, so expectant of support, _"Hiwatari-kun—she said_…_she said she likes me! We're going to the art show this weekend and—"_

"Shut _UP_! I don't—I don't want to hear you—!"

The phantom voice did not listen, though, and the memory played on regardless of his yelling, _"Hiwatari-kun! She likes me back! Me! Not Dark inside me, but Daisuke me! And—I like her too! I like Riku-san—!"_

"No…I don't want to hear you like that! Don't—_don't_ be happy, _NIWA_!"

_"Hiwatari-kun! I like Riku-san!"_

"No…"

_"I_…_I'm sorry, but I_…_I don't like Hiwatari-kun that way_…_"_

…Only fools confessed like that. Hiwatari Satoshi…the _idiot_, despite his name.

"Don't be happy…without _me_… Don't…don't _leave me behind_…"

_Wait for me_… A tear crested its banks and slipped down in a salty trail—two, three followed.

"…It's wrong…it's _wrong_… I wanted it to be different…to be _me_… Why does he get to share his warmth with _her_, when I'm so _cold_…so cold…" As if to reinforce this fact, he sniffed and rubbed his bare arms vigorously with his palms, inadvertently reopening his newly-bound wound and sending a twinge of pain through his being that resonated even to Krad who _had_ been trying to rest—with little success thanks to the boy's dramatic monologue.

"But…so badly…to want something so badly is—_selfish_! I want him to be happy, I _do_…but I wanted him to be happy with _me_! Why can't _I_ be happy too?!" The tears flowed more profusely now, making his voice crack pathetically, and they felt as if they were burning down his cheeks, so cold were the tracks. His eyes were getting more and more bloodshot as his voice rose, frantic in tone, "How _horrible_ is it to want to be happy like that—how horribly _selfish_…

"I'm just as bad…" he announced with finality, "…just as bad…as my own damn _curse_…!" In defeat, he collapsed into deeper sobs, as if this very fact of comparison had been enough to send him well over the edge.

Inside his mind, settled along the outermost edges of his consciousness so as to be able to catch his entire speech, Krad had been lazily processing the information transmitted to him as Satoshi berated himself—after all, feeling sorry for himself seemed to be something his lovely host enjoyed doing frequently, so why deny him his one or two pleasures _not_ provided by Krad himself?

But these words…they struck a deep ominous chord inside whatever passed for a heart that beat underneath the layers of Astral and flesh inside Krad's center.

"I'm just as bad…as Krad…" 

Just as bad…as him?

Just as _bad_…?

He was…_bad_? What he felt for his host was _wrong_? How could such emotion be unacceptable—to want the boy all to himself, to never share him, to desire the child to see nothing but _him_, to keep him close and watch over him always…Satoshi-sama felt it was…_punishment_…? How, _how_? The two were both so much alike—the pinnacle of design of Hikari genes, best of the best, perfect in every way, and he thought it was _wrong_ that they were that way? _How_ could something so _right_…be wrong?

Impossible—inconceivable! He couldn't comprehend—refused to _try_ to comprehend such absurdity. Selfish—ha! Self-preservation wasn't a sin to avoid, but nature to embrace! How on _earth_ could Satoshi-sa—

Then he felt it, sharp, piercing his mind with short stabs…_crying inside his mind_…

The pain—the _pain_! Like a thousand tiny needles had been dumped inside his head and were shearing his consciousness, tearing into both his astral and physical forms and ripping him apart on the sub-atomic level without any tangible methods conceived.

It was—_sadness_! Sadness like he'd not experienced before—or rather…sadness he'd not experienced in so long that the emotion was utterly foreign to him. The tears, pain that came from within, the frustration, all of what made up his precious Hikari child and kept him whole—now it was tearing him down like a condemned building!

Built up inside of his mind and heart for so long, it now ate away at his lowered defenses like drops of acid rain on his very soul, until he could no longer hold it back. As if he'd unconsciously been shielding Krad from his pain, it now flowed forth unhindered.

Without thought, the curse instinctively shifted to astral form and dropped to his knees in genuflect, clutching his skull in fury and screaming at the new sensation—to any onlookers, a silent scream, which would make it only that much more unsettling. Satoshi's crying had blended, now, into his own mind and thoughts, swirling and vortexing until the thoughts were as one, and one's pain was the other's.

Krad had _never_ felt this kind of pain before—because he'd never cried, never felt sadness or pain like this, never endured the pain of waiting so long for companionship, to have it denied when it was so close he could taste it, the scent still lingering fresh on his nostrils. Pain that couldn't be healed easily, that would fade only with time and the blessing of forgetfulness, that couldn't be sutured or bandaged, that couldn't be willed away—it was _too much_!

It very nearly made him sick, stomach twisting in a horrible new sensation that made him light-headed and sent the room into a spin, gag reflex activating involuntarily—what _was_ this?! What kind of emotion—what were these _tears_ that could make Satoshi—could make _him_ feel this way?!

_"I'm just as bad_…_as Krad_…_"_

_'S—Satoshi-sama_…_'_ He reached a gloved hand up desperately, pawing the air even though he knew he would receive no aid. No…Satoshi-sama wasn't listening in the least.

_'Stop it—now! Stop that infernal racket now! Disgraceful—you're—Satoshi-sama!'_

But Krad had not yet realized, apparently, that you cannot order someone to just _stop _feeling a certain way, just as it was equally futile to order them to _start_ feeling that way. Human emotions were one area he'd yet to master, and it seemed that even given a millennium more, he never would.

_'STOP IT! NOW!' _No one heard him, no one was listening, not inside that empty space that seemed to stretch for eternity, just the two of them in the little bedroom, sitting in the dark and crying. He was all alone—and at the same time never alone, just like Satoshi.

_'I_…_I_…_pl—ease_…_Satoshi-sama_…_make it stop_…_'_ Good gods, he'd even resorted to begging now…

Was he truly _that_ repulsive? _That_ undesirable to be associated with? That to simply be compared with him…moved the one to whom he was closest to such tears as these? This sorrow, rejection, frustration, anger, and tears tears tears…

"It hurts…"

_'It hurts_…_'_

And so…together they hurt…but at least it was together.

It's never much fun to just hurt alone, you know.

* * *

_Author's Notes_: Sincerest apologies for it being so long since an update, but it's all this behemoth's fault! I've spent nearly a year on this thing so that I could bring readers a timely, constant update, which I hope will be appreciated! I'd like to extend my thanks to my co-authors, Penchy and Jocy, as well as my betas Emi and Lara, without whom your eyes would bleed from spelling and grammar errors, most likely. Next update in one week, so get ready! — _Sage_


	2. Abdication

_Galatea_

_Second Movement: Abdication__  
_

"People don't choose their careers; they are engulfed by them."

_ John Dos Passos _

* * *

Friday. This horrid week was finally over—almost. If he could get through this day without having Niwa cast a pitying stare his way, Satoshi would be thankful enough. After all, he'd have an entire evening to imagine that same stare set behind a pair of laughing eyes belonging to one Dark Mousy. He didn't need to dwell on them in his daytime. 

For the past few days, Krad had been unusually silent. Indeed, the blonde hadn't spoken anything beyond admonishing him to tend to his hand. Slightly unsettled, yet not wanting his curse to know this, he resigned himself to simply accepting that Krad was feeling either complacent or conniving, the latter of which was still unsettling, but he could do nothing about it at this point until his curse showed his hand.

Sighing, he settled back into his seat and idly took a few bites from his bentou, chopsticks resting limply in his hand as he studied the paper in front of him. The Kan no Ken…Dark would try for it tonight, or so the advance notice had said, signed with that characteristic flourish all the notices had. Saehara had faxed him a layout of the museum—apparently forgetting that he already had numerous blueprints of the building in his apartment—and had highlighted areas where he intended to station himself and his men, along with where he thought Satoshi would be most effective.

"…He _would_ choose to have me in a van outside relaying orders over a radio… _Idiot_…" He flinched even as he cursed the man, and glowered at his palm, which was now throbbing painfully from the effort of holding the chopsticks. He ignored the twinge, though, and simply switched hands, turning his attentions back to the paper.

But perhaps the detective was onto something. He'd caught onto the presence of a new ventilation system installed in the past few weeks to circulate air through a simulated rain-forest environment on one of the upper floors…Dark would most likely not be familiar with it yet, and he could use that to his advantage to pounce on the thief.

The problem remained with making sure he got the _right_ Dark—that familiar of his seemed to always be there to help him out, confusing Satoshi as to which image to chase after. While he could quite easily tap into Krad's own power to silence the little demon rabbit, he was bound and determined not to sink so low as to require such means; he would take care of Dark by _himself_.

…Taking care of Daisuke, though, proved a whole different problem.

* * *

"Aah—Soushirei-dono!" Saehara greeted when he noticed a long black car pull up, out of which Satoshi stepped, still in his school clothes. Rare were the advance notice nights when he had a chance to head home and change clothes before arriving at the scene, so most of the force had grown accustomed to seeing a boy clad in a school uniform directing their movements. "We were worried you weren't going to make it—it's nearly the announced time." 

"Thank you for your…concern, Saehara-san," the boy replied flatly, taking a new sheet of paper the detective had just handed him, "I take it this is the layout for tonight?"

"Yes sir—I faxed you the blueprint earlier today, and this is the force's status as of five minutes ago, I've just checked by radio that all are in their positions."

Running calculating eyes over the paper, he narrowed them and pointed to the shaft he'd noticed earlier, "Here—you have one unit guarding the Rainforest exhibit?"

"Yes—Sakaguchi and a rookie who signed on last week." Satoshi mentally slapped himself—their best hope, and Saehara had assigned a rookie and one of the laziest officers on the force?!

Shoving the page back, he snapped an order, "Call them off, have them back up the others on the lower pavilion level, I want every basement door guarded at all times."

Blinking the detective sputtered, "But—the Rainforest area, sir? I realize it's highly unlikely that that area could prove any help or hurt in this situation, but don't you think—"

Could the man _be_ any more thick-headed? "I'm taking that patrol—have two backup units at the base of the stairwell on call should I need it." Dark _had_ to walk through the exhibit to get to the main viewing area where the Kan no Ken was on display, it was an ideal opportunity to ambush the unsuspecting kaitou and rid him of his servant wings. With those gone, he only needed to worry about the thief himself.

Setting off at a run, he entered the museum, headed for the basement elevator which would carry him up to the ventilation shaft. _'Alright, Dark_…_I'm angry and I need a suitable distraction. Don't disappoint me.'_

* * *

"Na, Daisuke—looking forward to a busy couple of months coming up?" the thief teased his host as he crested the fading night air currents, the Central Art Museum looming in the distance. "This cache is a big deal, you know. That so many of these works escaped the Cultural Revolution, all still intact and with the same collector… I mean, even you can appreciate that, can't you?" There was a feeble sound of agreement from his mind, and Dark pouted slightly, miffed by the lack of attention he was being paid that night. 

"C'mon, Dai… It's not the end of the world. So the guy likes you, big deal. Not really surprising, you know—you're kinda cute, in that 'I'm really not as stupid as I look' way." His mind was filled with a red-flushed hue, and Dark smiled at finally getting a reaction from the boy, "I guess that tends to make guys like Hiwatari rethink their having to kill you, so take it as a blessing."

'_That's not what I'm worried about, you should know.'_

Dark shrugged, folding his wings more closely to his body as he moved to swoop in low and give the media a thrill before alighting on a lower roof in the back and slipping inside. "There's nothing you can do about it now, though, is there? So take a hint from me and stop _worrying_ about him so much—jeez, you sound like you almost regret rejecting him…" There was a short pause as the thief straightened up and thought a moment, "…You're _not_ regretting it are you? 'Cause lemme warn you now, unless you really fancy Krad popping out every time you two wanna play smoochie-face on the couch or whatever then y—"

'_DARK!'_ His senses were now _flooded_ with red, momentarily blinding him, and he hastily rubbed his eyes and shook his head to clear his vision. _'Jeez, don't even play like that!'_ Daisuke continued muttering something about his alter ego being worse than Satoshi's, but Dark paid him no attention, as he had more important things on his mind now—namely the Kan no Ken.

Easily cracking the lock on a skylight window that overshadowed a fifteen-foot drop to the tiled museum floor below, Dark slipped down after resealing With and ordering the pet to play lookout for any cops. The little creature flitted away into the darkness, and the thief continued on, eyes swiveling this way and that searching for signs of life.

Gaze flicking up to a sign hanging overhead, he read it and smiled, "Rainforest Exhibit, Special Attractions Exhibit, right." Well, at least he knew he was heading in the correct direction now. "I dunno what Emiko was worried about…really, construction in the Rainforest Exhibit—it's open, must be over with. Unless that construction involved hanging a big steel cage over the front door to catch me with, I'd say we're safe. Na, Daisuke?"

'_I wouldn't get too cocky if I were you_…_Saehara's dad and the other cops are downstairs, but_…_we still haven't run into Hiwatari-kun yet_…_'_

"Yeah…" Dark admitted, sauntering through the nearest door and crinkling his nose in disgust as he was hit with the humidity of the simulated Rainforest Environment. "Sometimes I think you give that guy too much credit, though—I mean, come on. I'm _Dark_—Dark! Three hundred years I've been robbing this family blind, and you think some scrawny little fourteen-year-old snobby brat with an unnatural fixation on redheads is gonna catch m—"

"I take offense to that '_snobby_' remark, Dark…" a cold voice drawled from a catwalk above them, and—rather like a cat himself—Satoshi slipped silently to the ground, caught himself, and began sprinting forward.

The thief barely had time to register the arrival of his opponent before he was snapped out of his shock by the yelling in his mind. _'DARK! Come on! The rooftop!'_

"No—the sword first!"

'_We don't have TIME!' _

"No time, my ass!" Stepping up his pace as he sprinted down the slick sidewalk back through the opposite door into the Special Attractions area, he noted distantly that Satoshi really seemed to be lax tonight—if he'd been thinking, he would've locked his door before pouncing and giving his location away.

A blade glittered underneath a skylight in a glass case, and wasting no time, the thief smashed it, slung it behind his back, and slid it into his pack, still sprinting. "_Now_ we can go!" Hastily running the blueprint of the museum over in his mind, he turned down a corridor at the other end of the long Special Attractions room. The sound of footsteps pounding swiftly behind him put a bit more pep in his step, and he slung open a door marked "Emergency Exit Only", scaling a small flight of stairs to the rooftop.

Flinging a hand up into the air to signal his familiar, he shouted into the night as he raced for the far wall, "With! _Come_!"

…And he waited…and waited…and when he finally reached the ledge, with still no With, his stomach lurched uneasily. He was five stories up, and With was nowhere to be found. The nearest tree was only as tall as the third story, and was too far away to reach anyway. Helicopters hovered overhead, threatening him to try and make a run for it, and worst of all…Satoshi was standing at the door to the rooftop now, turning around and locking it with a key he slid into his pants pocket.

"…Going somewhere?" he queried innocently, and took a step forward, taking his time in traversing the distance between the two of them. "Now…what were you saying before I interrupted you? Something about a scrawny little fourteen-year-old snobby brat with an unnatural fixation on redheads not having a chance in hell of catching you…?"

The two faced each other, completely motionless, on the empty rooftop, the light filtering down from the fat, bright moon their only illumination. Dark was backed into a corner where two walls met, without even so much an escape route as a sheer drop—and Satoshi knew this well, for he had driven the thief here.

He'd taken this stance against the kaitou before—a stance where he knew he had Dark cornered and there was no way out, and yet he'd always been outsmarted somehow, or had neglected to account for those demon wings of the Niwas'. But tonight…tonight he'd taken care of With early on, back inside the museum itself.

Somehow…he felt a renewed strength surging through his veins, a heady rush that made his mind fire faster, heightened his awareness of the situation, and quickened his reflexes—in short, made him a more formidable opponent. And it was paying off, too. Careful planning and pinpoint precision and prediction had brought him this far. The question was, would it be worth it? Would he finally be able to fulfill the duty he was born for?

Dark was a few meters in front of him, back against the wall and arms at his sides in fists. He was relaxed, as usual, but completely on guard inside. He wasn't stupid by any means, knowing he was cornered, but when it came down to it, the two were evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat; any slight power shift could tip the scales one way or the other.

A stare-down commenced, neither speaking to the other, but each going over in his head each of the countless different paths the fight could lead down, calculating the potential outcomes. Satoshi was allowed to do this in blissful silence, for his part, but Dark…Dark had to put up with another voice yammering away in his mind, urging him to hurry up and—

'_THINK of something, Dark! GET US OUTTA HERE! You're the thief here, so do your thing and SAVE US, before we get arrested!'_

Dark flinched and growled back, _'Just—shut up! We're not gonna get arrested, alright? And I dunno what you're worried about, kid—not like he'd ever hurt you—wait a minute_…_'_

At the mental tone shift, Daisuke calmed down slightly, waxing curious now, _'What? Wha—do you have a plan? WELL? Please, please tell me you have a feasible idea Dark!'_ The thief smiled knowingly, and Satoshi immediately perked up, eyes narrowing; when Dark smiled like that…it was never a good sign for him.

Before he could make a move to react to whatever plan might be forming inside the Niwa curse's mind, the tall lanky form shimmered and swayed before him, growing misty and translucent with an odd glow about it before slimming down to reveal his host: Daisuke. Satoshi's eyes widened back at the curious turn of events, and his breath hitched, caught in his throat.

So, Dark wanted to play _that_ way…did he? He was _that_ desperate?

Inside his memory flashed a scene from months ago, when their whirlwind game of cat and mouse had begun…before the Niwa boy became so comfortable around him, before he started talking to him so freely, without worry, without fear…

"_I need to have a little chat with you, High Commander_…_"_ Dark had drawled in that swaggering voice of his, a lopsided grin plastered on his face, knowing Satoshi would take the bait, _"Let's have a bet_…_"_

"…_A bet?" _And, ever the fair player, Satoshi had taken that bait.

"_Yes—tomorrow, if I can steal Yufilia's Night Scene_…_then you absolutely can't lay a finger_…_on him."_

Cocky, wasn't he? _"And what if_…_you don't steal it?"_

This hadn't deterred the thief in the least, back then—as if it was a potentiality he needn't even address, _"Then_…_feel free to do whatever you want."_

Satoshi had lost the bet, of course—he didn't remember if he'd tried his best or not—maybe he'd just, deep down, been looking for some escape route, something to hide behind so he wouldn't have to fight at full strength, exploiting all opportunities. And even worse was his humiliating slip from the roof, saved from an early—well, earli_er—_death by the phantom thief himself.

Dark's words had saved his host from being arrested for any of the thief's nightly jaunts. And Satoshi, even up to now, had kept to his word, not harassing Daisuke—_much_—outside of Dark himself.

Well, apparently tonight the kaitou had decided to test just how strong Satoshi's words were—how would he fight, with his prize so near, simply locked behind a mental barrier, buried under a layer of flesh? He'd banked on the fact that the Hikari boy, true to his word, wouldn't hurt, or arrest, or even detain Daisuke, that he'd just let the two go back home, consider the night over, and save it for another time.

Satoshi stared across the rooftop at the flustered Niwa boy, only noticing now how truly scared he looked—a mixture of shock, anxiety, trepidation, and concern swirling on his delicate features, face flushed red from physical exertion. Suffice to say, this was _not_ a plan he'd call brilliant on Dark's part, and it was more than a little uncomfortable for him.

Daisuke could still recall the scene, from a mere few days prior, when he'd run up to the Hikari boy—the only person in the entire school he could speak to about this. He'd been so happy, all smiles, radiating cheer, and eager to spill the fact that Riku had voiced her feelings to him directly, finally. Surely Hiwatari-kun would be ecstatic to find that his friend was moving on and living a life outside of his curse—no, in _spite_ of his curse, rather. Surely Hiwatari-kun would understand how important this was to him, to be liked for himself, and not for the thief inside.

He had not expected…to be confessed to.

He'd just been told by Riku that she'd liked him…and then Hiwatari-kun…said it too. The boy had looked down with that ever-serious expression, even when Daisuke had told him he had to be joking, that there was no way he was serious…even when he'd _known_ he was serious.

There was no way he could reciprocate those feelings, he knew it—Hiwatari-kun was Hiwatari-kun…they were enemies, Daisuke acknowledged that; they were boys, he acknowledged that too. He cared too much for Riku to hurt her like that, when he loved her so much—and he cared for Hiwatari-kun just as much, he did! Just…not in the same way…

"_I'm sorry, but_…_I just can't think of you like that, Hiwatari-kun_…_I like Riku-san_…_"_

Now, he felt the familiar blue eyes watching him more often—and wondered silently if this was because Satoshi watched him more, or if he was just more aware of it now. Either way, it made him quite uncomfortable. Before he'd just chalked it up to the Hikari clan's obsession with catching Dark, but now…now it's no longer simply because he was host to the kaitou, but betrayed a deeper, more emotional meaning buried in the boy's heart.

Those eyes were watching him even now, running up and down his form as he tried to determine what he should do now, and Daisuke shivered, more from the cold gaze than the cold air.

Would he stick to the bet? Would he give up his prey when it had strayed so close, already within his grasp? Let the Niwa bird fly free one more, only to be cornered again, and released a second time thanks to Dark's underhanded tricks like this? Playing with people's emotions…it was exactly something he should have expected from the thief—and certainly not something he'd be beneath repeating in the future should he need to, this Satoshi was sure of. Once a weak spot was found—it was fair game to exploit.

Damn that Dark! He _didn't_ want to arrest Daisuke—even now! The Niwa boy was guilty of _nothing_ save the bad luck to have been born in the Niwa line to begin with, and for being so—so—_nice_. It was _his_ fault Satoshi was even having this mental dilemma right now. But outside of that, in the context of this night's thievery, Niwa Daisuke was not at fault. It was Dark and Dark alone that he would punish.

As the silent moments ticked by, dragging the night on, Daisuke's anxiety got the better of him, and he was the first to speak, addressing now the problem which was plaguing the both of them: "So…what do we do now?…Are we…supposed to fight, like you and Dark do?"

Satoshi only laughed roughly in reply, with a whispered retort, "You wouldn't survive if we did."

Well? Would he stand by the bet or wouldn't he? Would he too sink to Dark's level?

…_Never_.

"Hiwa…tari-kun…I—"

Clenching his fists tightly by his sides, Satoshi stared down at his feet. "Just—_leave_ Niwa—leave now. Your servant wings are waiting—just take them and fly away and _leave me alone_." This was the final straw, a climax that had been building up for a while now: he _knew_ Dark could simply try this again—he could try it in any situation, knowing Satoshi wouldn't fight Daisuke. It was his Achilles heel, and that thief wouldn't be above taking advantage of it. "You…Dark…I'm done with this—all of it." Turning on his heel, he marched away, "_I quit this_."

Daisuke quickly straightened up, brows knit in concern as confusion spread across his face, "…'quit'? But, you—Hiwatari-kun, how can you—"

The Hikari boy stopped in his tracks and threw back a cold glare. "Do you _want _to be arrested?!" He suspected it was hardly that, though—that Niwa boy seemed to have a knack for breaking through his masks, knowing well when something wasn't right, and could tell clearly that there was some other reason he was being let go. This, however, didn't excuse the question, and he blew up at the boy, "I said _leave_, now! I'm sending Saehara and his unit up here in five minutes—if you're not gone by then, it's your own damn fault!"

He dashed down the stairs, leaving the redhead gaping behind him, and swiftly descended the stairs back to the museum's ground level, then, true to his word, ordered the detective and a few backup men to search the building from basement to rooftop for any clues as to Dark's whereabouts and what could be done in the future to prevent him from escaping again. When the men had headed out, he decided to retire for the night and flagged down a taxi—trudging wearily up to his apartment, papers tucked underneath one arm in a manila file.

Flinging the folder haphazardly onto the coffee table, he wandered slowly into the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on any lights. He frowned as he opened a cabinet door, noting that he had virtually nothing to eat in his almost-bare cupboards. Mundanely he took out a small pot and set some water on to boil for a meager supper of ramen.

Leaving the stove, he wandered back into the living room, and a thought suddenly hit him as he leaned onto the back of the couch, staring into the darkness of his apartment: Not once, that whole night, even up through his confrontation with the two inhabitants of Niwa Daisuke's body…not once had Krad made an attempt on either of their lives, not even attempted to manifest…

No…even more, he hadn't even said a word of taunting for hours, since early that day, when he'd reminded Satoshi that his hand was becoming infected and that he needed to rebind it.

Almost immediately regretting splitting the comforting silence inside his mind, Satoshi could fight the unease settling on his heart no longer, and slightly worried that his alter ego had been unusually quiet all this time, he called out weakly, "…Krad?" He felt something light and tenuous stir behind his eyelids, and knew then that he'd roused the sleeper. His lips pursed into a thin line—well, what had he been expecting? For Krad to be gone? No, hardly—it wasn't that, he knew better, it was just…strange.

_'Not worried, were we, Satoshi-sama?'_

"Of—of course not!" he barked back quickly, voice echoing loudly in the empty apartment—he never worried about neighbors, though; Hiwatari Kei had more than anticipated the antipathy this Hikari child he was adopting had towards his curse. The walls were quite thick, specially ordered that way so the two could yell without attracting unwanted attention.

He knew, now, that Krad had been reading his train of thought this whole time, since he'd neglected to do anything to barricade himself from the blonde's prying eyes. "All I—"

'_So_…_in the end, you let him go, I see_…_'_ Krad had obviously witnessed the entire rooftop fiasco, and yet for some reason he'd allowed it to ensue without trying to disrupt it with his presence—a rare thing indeed. _'You had not the strength_…_to call upon me for aid_…_'_

Satoshi's virtually automatic response shot back in a rough coughing laugh, "_Help_? You?!—You would have killed them if I'd asked you for help…"

The voice was soft in return, not rising to his harsh words, _'I would do anything for you should you ask me, don't you realize_…_?'_ A pause. _'No, of course you don't_… _You refuse to accept that I require nothing from you in return_…_just as you don't seem to realize that boy, that Niwa boy you watch so often_…_that he will die eventually. Whether by your hand, or mine, or some physical illness, or even under the yoke of old age_…_all beautiful things must die, must end_…

'_But art_…_art lives on_…_'_

Satoshi ignored him still, tossing the papers he'd picked up to begin leafing through back onto the table, and turned to walk back into the kitchen to check his water, turning the burner up to a higher setting in the cold apartment. After a second thought, though, he wondered if he should even waste his time cooking the noodles; he wasn't that hungry anyway. Turning off the burner now, he carried the pot over to the sink to drain it.

"…Then you heard me before. I'm not doing this anymore." He tilted the pan over, steam rising up in plumes of mist as the water swirled down the drain. "I quit this… I'm _tired_…tired of trying…"

Krad lapsed into astral form now, sensing a conversation ahead that would be facilitated by this, and stood with his arms folded neatly across his chest, eyeing the boy knowingly from the doorway. _'But Satoshi-sama,' _he reminded, _'You cannot simply quit being a Hikari, you know. You can quit being a police commander, you can quit being a junior high student again, you may even—if you wish—quit being that Hiwatari's son_… _But just as you can never quit being adored by me, so can you not stop being that which you were born.'_

For once, Satoshi didn't snap back some scathing reply for Krad to shut up, and actually took the bait, knowing full well he was being drawn into an argument of which Krad was clearly in charge. "And is that what _you_ think as well? Are you satisfied with your fate, Krad?" He turned and faced the blonde, eyes flashing, "Don't _you_ ever get tired of it? All day, every day, thinking about this feud? This pointless…pointless feuding, generation after generation, you and Dark at each other's throats simply trying to obliterate one another?! Isn't it—doesn't it ever get…" He struggled for words, but soon fell silent, eyes closing in defeat.

Had he looked up again, he would have seen Krad—backlit by the rising moon streaming in from the skylight above and bathing him in a soft silvery light, making him appear more celestial and spectral than before. His face, though was entirely hidden in shadows, not even the familiar ghost of a smirk on his lips, and his arms hung limp at his sides. Daring a glance up at the unusual silence, Satoshi found himself able to focus only on the eyes…the gold gleaming embers piercing though his skull, inside and out…no, not piercing, but rather gripping, and holding—chaining him in place.

Suddenly, though, without warning, the image blipped and faded out, like an image from an old television screen, and just before totally slipping from his astral form, the boy was able to catch a single word falling from the lips of his curse:

'…_Lonely?'_

* * *

Satoshi made short work to inform the police department of his resignation from his post as commander in charge of the anti-Dark forces, but this didn't seem to expedite his complete removal from office in the least. 

"You see, sir—ah, I mean Hiwatari-san," Saehara informed him in his office, plopping down a bulging manila folder of paperwork on the desk in front of him and hesitantly reverting to a slightly less formal method of addressing the boy, "When your father signed you on to work those months ago, it wasn't as simple as it might seem. For one thing, you're technically underage, still a minor, even with your impressive educational background. And for another thing, you had _no_ prior law enforcement experience whatsoever. I can't even image what strings he must have had to pull, or what kind of wheeling and dealing went on behind the scenes.

"The point is, it took that much to get you in—and it's going to take just as much paperwork to get you officially _out_. Now," Saehara leaned forward over his desk and stared seriously at the youth across from him, who didn't bat an eye in response, "Tell me, are you _really_ serious about wanting to go through with this resignation? Are you _really_ quitting the force? Because, if it's just a conflict of interests from your schoolwork, you'll pardon me, but…to me, _this_ assignment is more important than indulging in studies you've already completed. It just seems a lot to go through—not that I don't think you're more than capable of handling the wor—"

"Saehara-san," Satoshi interrupted coolly, eyes fixated on the man who'd slipped into idle babble without knowing it, "I assure you I am serious about resigning. So there's no need to shamelessly cajole me anymore; I'm not your superior officer now." The detective bit his lip, aware he'd been found out. "In fact," the Hikari boy leaned back in his chair and set his gaze to staring out the window just behind Saehara, focusing on a group of elementary-age children crossing the street, "I'd rather…you just speak to me like a normal child my age…like you'd speak to your own son even. I wouldn't mind it, if people treated me like anyone else…"

"I hate to break it to you, Hiwatari-san," Saehara sighed, standing in place as he moved to let the boy out of the office to get started on the resignation paperwork he'd just been handed, "But ever since you walked through the double doors of this station, you've not once been viewed as 'normal' by anyone here. Not, at least, by fourteen-year-old standards."

Nodding his head in reluctant agreement, Satoshi stood as well and accepted the packet of papers from the detective, giving a short bow of thanks. The door was pulled open to release him into the buzzing main office of the station, and he made a beeline for the front doors, when Saehara's voice called out to him.

"Hiwatari-san!" He turned, curiosity painted on his features. "Come by on Thursday, noon—we'll have an official send-off party. The whole station." At this announcement, every other head in earshot turned to Saehara as well, with the same expression Satoshi had. "Yeah—you heard me, bunch of lazy bums. Bring something good, or I'll send any slackers off to pull security guard duty at the art festival downtown! Now _back to work_!"

Smiling weakly as the brown head snapped back into the office it had just peeped out from, Satoshi continued on towards the front doors. Yes, the Azumano Police Department would _definitely_ be in fine hands when he left. Assuming Saehara started coming up with feasible plans to capture Dark.

That wasn't likely to happen soon.

* * *

The next evening, Satoshi sat slumped on his living room couch and sighed loudly, crossing off another name on the long list Saehara had provided him in the packet of paperwork the previous afternoon. Convinced that he, more than anyone else down at the station, could suggest qualified candidates to take his place as head of the Anti-Dark force, the detective had asked him to look over the list and circle any names that jumped out at him based on the qualifications next to them. 

Truthfully, there was only one person Satoshi felt could handle Dark—and that person wasn't anywhere on this list. Rather, he was being unusually quiet this evening, like every other evening so far since he'd quit, which at once calmed and worried the boy. Slumped back at the edge of the couch and sinking down into the cushions, he flipped forward a few pages, placed a mark next to a few names, then back, before setting the entire stack aside and picking up another.

While his hand hovered over the next set of papers, the air in front of him at the opposite end of the couch shimmered, not drawing his attention from his work, though. Krad phased into view as he was wont to do at times and simply sat across from his Tamer, facing forward with as blank an expression as he could muster.

"And what do you want _now_?" he spat almost on instinct. Truthfully, though, he was quite curious at what had prodded his curse to now break his silence—but as if he was going to let the blonde know this.

Krad shifted his eyes to the left to peer out of the corner of his eye at the boy seated beside him, and propped his chin up in his palms, with his elbows resting on his knees—a decidedly un-Krad-like pose which rendered him almost human. After a moment of silence save the scratching of a pen, he queried softly, _'_…_Do you hate me, Satoshi-sama?'_

Without even the faintest bit of hesitation, Satoshi quickly replied with an unmiffed "Yes," not once taking his eyes from his work as he circled and boxed several names on the page he was currently turned to.

The blonde's gaze returned forward slowly. _'_…_Why?'_

It was _this_ question that made Satoshi stop his work, and he nearly dropped the carefully ordered stack he'd just arranged, which began slipping from his lap when he turned his attention from it.

Why, the curse asked? He wanted to know _why_ his Tamer hated him with such passion? It had never bothered Krad before that he didn't care for him in even the most platonic of senses, so why should he start caring now? Satoshi's liking—or rather, simply not hating—him brought little advantage for the blonde.

He narrowed his cold blue eyes into a sharp glare, running his gaze up and down the figure in front of him, but eventually decided to indulge. "…For one thing, you have an unhealthy obsession with murdering that thief at all costs—compounded by the fact that you don't care _who_ gets in your way in the process, whether it be Niwa, or the Haradas, or _anyone_… You have no value for human life other than—" There was a sharp pause as he took the time to phrase his words, and continued on in a softer voice, averting his eyes, "—other than my own…and even _that_ you covet like it's some present that's been gifted to you that no one else may look at.

"You you you…that's all you see or care about in your heart—or whatever it is you have in your chest, if _any_thing. Even I who am closest to you mean _nothing_ to you…" He turned slowly back to his work and picked up his pen again, whispering half to himself, "…Nothing to anyone…"

Whether he heard this last addition or not didn't show up on Krad's features, and instead he simply turned to stare, face still blank. _'And what if_…_what if I changed that? If I_…_were different?_…_Would you not hate me then?'_

As before, Satoshi kept at his paperwork, shooting back, "There is precious little you could do that would make me not hate you."

The blonde seemed adamant, still. _'But_…_can even I not change? If it were for_…_for what you considered the better?'_

"The _better_?" The response this time came off as a harsh laugh at the ludicrousness of the suggestion, "Well then, perhaps you _might_ scale the ladder of hatred I've placed you upon from 'I would kill you if I could touch you' to 'If you touch me I will kill you.' See? At least then I'd give you the grace of a conditional." Krad didn't respond, and when he looked up, the face was stern, "There's no way for you to accomplish such a phenomenal transformation as to make me feel anything beyond abstract _pity_ for you—pity that it took a fourteen-year-old child to hate you enough to make you want to change…"

Still the blonde would provide no response, and began to fade away, but just before he lost form entirely, a single phrase remained behind, ringing in Satoshi's ears as he tried to get back to work, unsettled:

'_Then_…_that is enough for now_…_'_

* * *

The rest of the week was spent cleaning out the already-austere office Satoshi had occupied, as well as getting started on the mountain of paperwork awaiting his signature and personal information, soon to be filed away and forgotten in the Land of the Legal Eagles. Krad's unusual silence, punctuated only every now and then, usually for reasons unrelated to Dark in any way, only served to heighten the unreal-ness of the week—and his strange mid-week question of whether or not Satoshi hated him unnerved the boy even now. It was as if he was actually going to let his host go through with his decision, undeterred. 

Not that Satoshi minded the peace of simulated-solitude in his mind—it just made him more…on edge. Expecting at any moment that the curse would take over his body and kill Niwa in the dead of night, having successfully lulled his Tamer into a false sense of security. Thursday, though, eventually came, without any attack, and he had not forgotten Saehara's promise of a going-away party held in his honor.

Truthfully, he and the elder detective had never really been close—no, had never even been particularly friendly to one another. It was a commander-subordinate relationship, and it was obvious it rubbed Saehara the wrong way to have to submit to a wet-behind-the-ears greenhorn who was less than half his own age. It was the equivalent of handing his son, Takeshi, the position of editor of the city newspaper! Ludicrous!

But, it hadn't been Saehara's decision in the first place—an obvious act of nepotism on Hiwatari Kei's part, or so the detective saw it. Satoshi himself knew that he'd simply been placed in the position which most facilitated his operations against the kaitou that had been pestering his clan for the past three centuries. If Dark had instead rooted through neighborhood trashcans by night, Satoshi probably would have found himself head of the Refuse Department, stinking of rubbish. Well, at least art didn't smell.

The secretary at the front cheerily directed him towards a room at the rear of the building when he passed through the double doors into the warm main lobby of the station, cheeks flushing lightly against his pale skin from the nip outside. He found his way to the "party room" easily enough, and by now all the participants were enjoying themselves and didn't even notice the arrival of the small child the festivities were in honor of.

"Soushirei-dono!" a young woman in a tight-fitting most-assuredly-non-regulation-uniform squeaked as he brushed past her, her face tinged a light pink—Satoshi doubted, though, that the blush was brought about by embarrassment so much as intoxication. The moment he'd stepped through the door the scent of cheap alcohol had assaulted his nose, and he wrinkled it in disgust.

The outburst, though, was enough to draw most attentions to his arrival, and it didn't take long for Saehara to elbow his way to the front and order everyone to make room for the boy—as well as to get rid of the spiked punch an eager first-year officer had supplied for the occasion. "Sorry for all this Hiwatari-san. You give them the slightest bit of slack and they'll take it as far as they can."

Shrugging his shoulders, the Hikari boy waved it off, "It's human nature, I suppose…to exploit opportunities whenever they arise."

Eyeing the youth strangely, Saehara tried his best to shake off the strange aura exuded by him. Why did he always have to be so damn _serious_? It was unnerving, how mature and…beyond-his-years…Hiwatari-san could act at times. "Ah—if you'd like, I made sure they kept out one of the untainted punch bowls," he gestured to a far corner, near which a group of four or five older officers was gathered, "Feel free to have some. This _is_ supposed to be your send-off, after all."

Excusing himself, Satoshi did as was suggested, but mostly for the purpose of pleasing Saehara. He _had_ gone through all this trouble, putting together the little party, that it would have seemed rude to hold back here. Grabbing a plastic cup from the table, he scooped some of the red liquid into it, idly listening to the background chatter from the group of older officers.

It was casual office banter, from what he could hear—snarky comments typical of older men, usually in reference to one of the more shapely female officers ranking below them, and Satoshi's lip curled in disgust as he topped off the punch, filling it again and turning around.

One of the group, a balding man by the name of Sakaguchi with the stereotypical donut-belly characteristic of desk-working officers, caught sight of him as he turned around with his cup and called out to him, "So, you're really retiring, eh? Soushirei-dono?" This man had also apparently taken a sip from the earlier spiked bowl, as well as his comrades. The way he spoke the elevating title almost made Satoshi feel as if he had mud thrown in his face, dirtying the honorific.

"Looks like it," he admitted, pasting on a thick smile and shrugging, slipping easily into their pre-determined view of him. These underlings knew nothing of Satoshi or his motivations and such as commander in charge of capturing Dark—unlike Saehara—and so they retained in their minds a preconceived image of him: uppity snobby rich boy who didn't know what _real_ police work was. But what did he care? He had Hikari blinders on to the world, and Dark was all he saw. Besides, he was done with all this anyway.

"He's got more important things to do than play around with _kaitous_ I'll bet," another man to his right piped up, "You're only young once, you know—kids need to enjoy it while they can. Go to school, hang around with friends, go on dates—"

"I had a girlfriend in middle school!" Sakaguchi interrupted his friend, waving around his cup to draw all attentions in the group back to himself, "She was the first person I ever went on a real date with too—went to the movies and then the _bowling alley_." He spoke the final words in an awed voice, as if it was the most amazing feat accomplished in history, pasting on a drunken smirk before collapsing into giggles. His companions mostly rolled their eyes at him, and the second man who'd been interrupted turned his remarks back to the Hikari boy.

"What about you, Hiwatari-san?" He looked up from his drink, a bit startled at being addressed. "You got someone you like?" The officer winked slyly, "Someone you're gonna be spending a lot more time with now, huh? I'll bet ya do…"

Indulging one last time, Satoshi didn't lose his cool head, and instead conceded, "Kind of…" and brushed off the comments. This was enough, apparently, and the group turned back to focusing on its own members, now diving into old stories of first-loves and other such nonsense Satoshi didn't care to listen to. He quietly withdrew off to the side and out into the hallway to take a breather in the restroom, away from the hubbub.

"Not your thing, is it?" a familiar voice called from behind him as he wandered down the hall to wash up in the bathroom. "Parties, I mean. You never struck me as the most social of people—though most high-level commanders seldom are." Saehara was leaned against a wall just outside the main party area, and Satoshi slowed to a halt and turned his head, regarding the detective.

"Please don't think me unappreciative of your efforts, Saehara-san. But it really wouldn't have mattered to me either way, whether I left with or without some kind of farewell. Fanfare is…not something I'm accustomed to."

"I know—it's obvious enough, even from your work. I was always the one who gave the press any statements on Dark's whereabouts or the chances of capture on the evening of a notice, even though you were in charge of the operations. You were always in and out of that office you were provided as quickly as possible, never staying for any kind of recount of one of that thief's jobs afterwards with the department. I always chalked it up to your having classes to attend to, but…I'm not so sure that's the case."

Pushing his glasses up and turning to face the elder man fully, Satoshi smiled almost deviously, "It's amazing, Saehara-san: You're quite adept at psychologically assessing people, but quit _in_ept at assessing situations, particularly in regard to capturing Dark." The man frown slightly, face tinging a bit pink. "Was there something you needed me for? If it's all the same to you, I'm going to return home and continue working on the paperwork I've got to turn in for this resignation."

"Actually," Saehara continued, pushing himself up from his post leaning against the wall, stepping nearer the boy, "I did have something I wished to ask before you left."

"Proceed then."

Crossing his arms, he did just that. "Why are you _really_ quitting the force?"

Satoshi blinked once, twice, three times in succession. "…Excuse me?" He blinked again, still registering the question. "My…real reason?"

"Yes—real reason. Implying that your excuse that you simply wish to focus more time on your life outside of the police is a lie. Or rather, an effort to divert attention from your true reason behind leaving."

"Then that implication would be wrong, Saehara-san. This post is leading me nowhere, and there are many other aspects of childhood, as you heard from the group earlier, that I would like to indulge in—"

"So you're saying you're bored with chasing Dark, is that it? That he's frustrating you?"

Satoshi flushed and clenched a fist, "I—I said nothing of the sort!"

"Then _why_?" the detective pressed further, "I already told you how much it took to get you on the force—let alone get you in the position you held. Yeah, I'll admit I thought it was just favoritism from your father, but…I dunno, there's always seemed to be some kind of…private feud or something between you and Dark." The flush in Satoshi's face darkened, and he averted his eyes.

"That thief," he continued, "I'm smart enough to know he's not normal—despite what some of the officers under me might imply." His attempt at humor was lost on the teen, and he continued, frowning, "Flying in and out with those damned wings of his as if he'd been flitting around for ages, and I don't even want to know how he pulled some of those jobs he did—it's almost like he's not even _human_…But still—he's got to be something important for them to pull in someone like you to command the case. And all I want to know is _why_ you'd abandon all this. What's happened that's making you run away—"

"I am _not_ running away," Satoshi was quick to snap, and Saehara jerked back involuntarily at the sharp remark, rendering the boy almost instantly remorseful for his tone. "I'm not running away. I just—have other things I want to focus on, things that are more important than chasing phantom thieves."

Saehara raised an eyebrow, "…Something more important than upholding the law and trying to bring a felon to justice?"

Satoshi almost laughed at his typical good-guy naïveté. Thinking that things were as simple as black and white in this case when it couldn't be any further from the truth. "I wouldn't be too sure, Saehara-san, that Dark is going to simply be allowed to roam free just because I'm leaving the force."

Saehara's other eyebrow joined the first in rising up, "Oh?" He almost laughed, adding jokingly, "You're not turning vigilante on us, are you?"

"Hardly," Satoshi rebutted, "But…greater forces than you or I will, I'm sure, still be on guard to be sure that he doesn't run wild…"

The detective shook his head, "…I can never get a straight answer from you, can I?"

With a wan smile, Satoshi turned on his heel and headed for the front lobby, throwing back, "Maybe I'll tell you when you're a bit older."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ As promised, here's your weekly update! Thanks as always to my betas, Lara and Emi, and my partners-in-crime, Penchy and Jocy. Next update: in one week! 


	3. No Man's Land

_Galatea_

_Third Movement: No Man's Land  
_

"Compromise is never anything but an ignoble truce  
between the duty of a man and the terror of a coward."

—_Reginald W. Kaufman_—

* * *

Satoshi finally broke down and directly asked Krad what he wanted to know after he got back to his apartment, safely behind thick walls. Guessing wasn't getting him anywhere after all. 

"…Why didn't you try to stop me?"

It was a question that had been stewing inside Satoshi's mind for the past week—ever since that night on the rooftop when everything had culminated in a frustrating display in front of Dark and Niwa. Enough was enough, he was through with all this, and _nothing_ was holding him to this damn family-ordained job any longer.

But there was always that suspicion that his curse, that Krad…was simply biding his time and luring the boy into a false sense if security. Yes, that would be just like him, wouldn't it? Let him hope, let him think for a moment that he would actually finally be able to do what _he_ wanted to do, and not what the Hikari clan wanted him to do. And then—_snap_! Krad would take him when he was least expecting it, and laugh haughtily with that golden voice of his as his fingers wrapped tighter, tighter around the delicate windpipe of Niwa Da—

_'Would you have preferred I did something? I should have thought you'd be thankful I was finally not meddling in your affairs.'_ A white-robed figure materialized, relaxing onto the couch in the living room faced away from his host. _'It seems I can do nothing to satisfy you—what a troublesome boy.'_

Satoshi frowned and dropped his pack in the genkan, removing his shoes as well. "You know well enough that without me in that position there's nothing I can legally do anymore to mess around with Dark. That's why Hiwatari had me put there in the first place, remember?"

Krad smiled and leaned his head to the side, resting it in his palm while his elbow was cocked on the arm of the sofa. _'I know that_… _Can you not just accept that I'm letting you do as you wish this time? Perhaps I've come around—perhaps I've changed and no longer think Dark's as big a threat as I've made him out to be.'_

"Bull," the boy snapped back, and slipped onto the opposite end of the couch, glaring at his curse as if he were trying to stare into Krad's deepest thoughts and discern truth from fiction. "For all the hell you've put me through just for that thief, there's no way you can expect me to believe that line of crap. And if you're planning something I'd rather face it _now_ than have you spring it on me at some point in time in the future."

_'Then wouldn't telling you ruin the surprise, Satoshi-sama?'_

Getting frustrated with Krad's toying around, he ground out again, "This is all a _game_ to you, isn't it?—Just tell me what you're planning! The Krad I know wouldn't let me just leave Dark to rob us blind, he'd never stoop that low—"

_'Ah, the Krad you know, is it? You seem to think you've got me pegged quite well apparently—yes, you were even expecting me to try something with that quip you made earlier to Saehara, going on about "greater beings than you or him" standing watch over the city against Dark.'_

Satoshi paled slightly and whipped his head around to face Krad. "You—heard that?"

The blonde had to fight back a scoff, _'Of course—you think I don't pay attention?'_

Turning his head back around, Satoshi couldn't fight the slightly embarrassed flush that crept over his cheeks, "No—I just…didn't think you heard that." Krad raised a thin eyebrow. "I couldn't think of anything else to tell Saehara, so I just slipped in something about you since he wanted some kind of better explanation for why I was leaving…"

They lapsed into silence for a few more moments, Satoshi's mind flitting from subject to subject as he tried to process all that had happened in the past week, that day, and all that waited him the next week. Dark's notice…when had the last one come out? Nearly a week ago? One was due again soon, probably tomorrow—

_'Tomorrow?'_ Satoshi silently cursed his inability to erect the formidable mental barriers his curse was so skilled at maintaining for himself.

He sighed, "Yes—but I wasn't talking to _you_. And it's just a guess, doesn't concern me anymore—or you—so I don't care." He leaned back further into the couch cushions and rested his weary eyes, letting them slide shut.

_'Well stop thinking so loudly! I can't tell when you're speaking to me or yourself—'_

"You'll know when I'm speaking to you because it won't happen voluntarily. Is that enough warning, or should I make some further distinction?" He opened one eye to gauge Krad's reaction, and was somewhat pleased to find an abashed expression across his slender features.

Pushing himself up from his comfortable position, though, he deemed it not the smartest idea to fall asleep on the couch as he'd been about to do, and wandered around the side headed for his bedroom at the rear of the apartment.

_'Where are you going?'_

Stopping in his tracks, Satoshi turned a cold eye to the blonde, "…Bed, what business is it of yours? Or is this a new aspect of my life you feel the need to exert some control over?" Again, that same strange sheepish expression crossed Krad's face, and Satoshi turned back forward, one foot over the threshold.

_'S—Satoshi-sama.'_

Sighing loudly, the Hikari boy stopped and turned around for the second time, "What _is_ it? Do you have a problem with my going to bed?"

The image fiddled with his cuffs nervously, and actually seemed to falter for words. _'I just_…_I wanted to_…_'_

"Spit it out already! I'm tired!"

Krad snapped to attention as if he'd found some source of courage suddenly, _'I wish to fight Dark tomorrow night should his advance notice arrive as suspected.'_

Satoshi blinked a few times in rapid succession. Krad "wished" to fight? As in…he was asking permission? From the same person he'd forcibly taken control of so many times before? "You…_what_?"

Relaxing slightly, he blonde elaborated, though obviously finding this "asking" tone a bit foreign on his tongue. _'I'm asking_…_for your blessing, I suppose.'_ He turned his eyes away ashamedly, _'You think I'm fooling around with this, I can feel it—but I'm not! I want_…_I want you to let me.'_

Taking a cue from his own curse, Satoshi relaxed a bit as well and towed the line, crossing his arms. "And what if I say _no_?"

_'_…_Then I_…_will refrain, as you wish.'_

Had he not at least a modicum of self-respect still inside himself, Satoshi's mouth might have dropped open, gaping in disbelief, which would then segue into his collapsing into a fit of laughter. Instead he shook his head to clear his thoughts and brushed it off, "Right—_that_'ll be the day. When Krad of the Hikari cared in the least whether or not his Tamer told him he could battle his eternal rival." As if to reinforce the ridiculousness of the claim, he laughed harshly.

Krad, though, seemed to think this was quite a serious matter and was slightly offended, brows furrowing. _'I—I'm serious! I'm asking you to let me fight!'_

Satoshi's laughter slowly died down, his usual frown falling back into place—the cruel joke had played on long enough, "You're asking my permission, is that it? You want me to just let you go on your merry way killing Niwa? Is it some pathetic attempt to rid yourself of the guilt that you've gone against your own Tamer's wishes?" Krad's own frown didn't move from its place. "Fine—I'll play along. _No_. If you step one foot out of this apartment when Dark's next advance notice comes, I assure you it will be _without_ my consent." Still no change.

_'_…_Very well then_…_as I agreed, I will comply.'_ The image slowly dissipated into nothingness, _'Good night, Satoshi-sama.'_

And Krad was gone, back inside his formidable mental barriers, away from Satoshi's thoughts for the rest of the night.

So, why did it still feel so strange…?

* * *

The next morning dawned with little fanfare; he mundanely applied a bit of antiseptic to his hand, as he'd been doing for over a week now, still putting off having a doctor look at it, washed his face, arranged his hair so that it looked decent enough where he wouldn't get stares, then picked up his bag, checked his fax machine, and left the apartment. 

As expected, Saehara apparently wasn't used to his not coming to work anymore, and—since it _was_ the first one since he'd quit—had sent the boy a copy of the advance notice which had no doubt been found early that morning. By ten o'clock it would be all over the school, whispered about in hushed giggles by the younger Harada and her gaggle of girlfriends. Niwa would, as was usual on advance notice days, be fidgety and nervous around him—though, he supposed, this could also be because he'd confessed his feelings to the boy. Either way, their relationship was anything but normal.

"_Yume no Yumi_, huh?" The Bow of Dreams—second in the series of Hikari war works. It wasn't supposed to arrive in Azumano for another few weeks, but apparently since the Kan no Ken was no longer available for public viewing, the benefactor supplying the works had sent this one ahead.

Smiling softly, he almost felt a twinge of pity for Saehara—the bow was meant to be used to put large forces to sleep at once, leveling an entire battlefield in a single blow without any loss of life; contrarily, it could also be used in conjunction with the Toukou no Tooya, a single golden arrow that, when fired from the Bow of Dreams, sent the victim into a string of nightmares which debased the mind to an almost primal state—as a torture device, it was quite effective. Leave it to the Hikaris to fashion a weapon that attacked the mind more than the body…

He buttoned his coat up almost all the way when he stepped outside—winter was well under way, and they'd had a late-night flurry the evening before. Muddy snow littered the sidewalks, and people steadied themselves shakily to avoid slipping as they walked past him.

He paid them no attention, though; after quickly checking to see how alert Krad was (blessedly silent, and, from the rhythm of his waves, asleep) he went over the previous evening's proposal again.

He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out _what_ the demon was up to! Brushing it off and forgetting about the whole thing would have been best—he'd done the right thing last night, hadn't he? Again and again he repeated in his mind that _any_thing Krad suggested would in the end wind up hurting him, so why even entertain the thought? There was no way his curse was thinking of _cooperating_—he had no reason to!

He'd known about Krad almost his whole life, since he was old enough to understand what exactly a curse was and how two living beings could occupy the same physical body. And he'd heard countless stories from the elders about their "blessed" protector, who kept them all safe from the ravages of the Niwa clan. What was one young boy every few generations or so compared to the well being of the Hikaris? Krad was _worth_ it.

Krad could do anything, Krad could keep them all safe and secure, Krad Krad _Krad_… What the hell did _they_ know, though? None of them had ever been his host even! No, never—for most Tamers died early deaths; whether or not this was directly resultant from their being host to the curse was debatable, but Satoshi strongly suspected the demon played _some_ role in their demises, just as he would no doubt play a role in his own.

So if Krad was so _wonderful_…why cooperate with Satoshi? The blonde didn't need him beyond his role as a container for his astral essence—the boy was a prisoner in his own body! If Krad wanted to come out, he came out, without regard to any pain he thrust upon his host—it was that simple! There was no _reason_, dammit! Why did he have to be so confusing?!

Maybe…maybe he was just getting tired too—no doubt Satoshi wasn't the _first_ host to fight him tooth and claw for control over his body; it was the best answer he could muster at this moment. And after all, cooperation between host and curse _would_ facilitate future transformations and such…it was worth a shot…

With a compromise, he could set his own standards that Krad would have to submit to—and if the blonde truly wanted this, he would _have_ to give in!

Taking a mental step back, Satoshi scoffed at himself. Gods, he was an idiot for even thinking about this.

As he turned the corner, striding in through the great gates of Azumano No. 2, his pack began to vibrate, and moments later a measured beeping emitted from the side pocket. Frowning, Satoshi reached in and studied his cell phone. "This is Hiwatari speaking," he answered flatly.

"Satoshi." The voice on the other end spoke his name with a feeling reminding the boy of a military inspection, and he unconsciously straightened up as if the owner of the voice was actually looking at him. "Are you busy this afternoon? I have something to discuss with you."

"No, I'm not busy, Father." He smiled faintly, knowing he'd just made the man angry—he'd virtually admitted he wasn't going to Dark's museum site this evening to defend the Yume no Yumi, and he was just fine with that, "I suppose you want me to come down to see you at the police station, then? What time?"

There was silence, doubtless as Hiwatari Kei's mouth gaped open like a fish's at his adopted child's audacity to speak to him in such a way. But as always, he quickly recovered his senses and continued on, "One o'clock, if you please—I'd like to get this discussed before tonight."

No doubt he intended to pressure the boy into going to thwart Dark again. Satoshi's smile grew even wider: just let him _try_…

* * *

"Ah—watch out! It's coming your way! _Hey_!" Satoshi had only a moment to look up from his book during lunch before he was pelted squarely in the face with a strategically fired snowball, burying him in a pile of soft feathery ice, which slowly slid to the ground with a soft _fwap_. 

Blinking a few times as drops of water wound their way down his smooth wind-reddened cheeks to his chin, he slowly set the book down and removed his glasses, wiping his eyes with a sleeve, and pushing himself up by bracing his back against the tree behind him.

"Saehara! Look what you did!" a familiar voice chided his friend, followed by the faint crunch of gravel as the Niwa boy approached to offer an apology to the unwitting victim of their snowball war, "Ah, I'm really sorry—I should've been paying more attent—Hi…Hiwatari…kun?"

Satoshi looked up from wiping off his glasses to stare at Daisuke, who was now considerably more embarrassed and apologetic, sputtering non-sensical phrases consisting of a muddled mass of "gomen"s and "really really sorry" and "do you need help getting cleaned up?"

"I'm fine Niwa…" He bent down to retrieve his book, only to find that Daisuke had already done it, and was hesitantly holding it out for him to take, a self-conscious smile tugging at his lips. Satoshi took the proffered book and searched for his page he'd left off on, reinserting his bookmark, and the Niwa boy took this as his cue to return to his game with Saehara and Sekimoto.

Then, something clicked, and as if they were simply going to meet to discuss some math problem or English translation assignment later that evening, Daisuke spoke softly, "I guess…I'll see you tonight then…since Dark's notice went out this morning…"

Pushing his glasses back onto his nose and pocketing the book into his pack, Satoshi gathered the rest of this things, not even looking the boy in the eye, and retorted, "I told you last week, I quit. I'm not going to be there anymore."

Daisuke, who had been already on his way back to the game, stopped in his tracks and slowly turned his head around, confusion evident on his innocent features, "You…but, you were just kidding, weren't you? You weren't really…" He trailed off into nothingness, before setting his mouth into a firm frown, and muttered angrily, "No…you never kid."

"Correct." Satoshi slung his pack over his shoulder and stared the Niwa boy down, "And Dark—" He now directed his speech to the curse lying dormant in some far recess of Daisuke's mind, and the being stirred to consciousness long enough to register Satoshi's threat, "I wouldn't get too cocky about all this if I were you…just because _I_ won't be there…doesn't mean _he_ won't…"

There was, of course, no response from the phantom thief inside Daisuke's mind, but Daisuke himself had something to say in answer to the assertion, and his face went pale, fear trickling down into his throat and tainting his voice with a nervous quiver, "…Wh—what's that supposed to mean, Hiwatari-kun?"

Satoshi narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the pathetic attempt to once again brush off the threat, "Exactly what it _sounds_ like I mean, Niwa. Use that shrewd mind of yours for once."

He was merely issuing a warning to the both of them, leveling the playing field as it were. That way, he could not be faulted for anything Krad did—he _had_ just warned them after all. If that kaitou and his host weren't prepared to fight his curse that evening, then it would be their own fault, and not because they'd been surprised.

"I've given Krad free rein to do whatever he pleases with Dark—fight him, bloody him, maim him—with the sole stipulation that he not kill you. I have done my part in this fight and am bored with it all, so I leave the rest to him—you'll do well not to underestimate him. I can't very well leave you two to rob my family blind, you know."

With that, Satoshi turned and began to walk away from the snowfight to find a more suitable spot to study in, but was stopped when Daisuke reached out and grabbed his retreating coattail. "Hiwatari-kun, you can't—"

"Don't you _ever_—" Satoshi jerked around and swiftly detached Daisuke's hand from his jacket, slamming the boy into the tree he'd just been sitting under, cornering him by placing hands on either side of his head and leaning in close, "—tell me what I can and cannot do, _Niwa_." His eyes glinted with a cold malice, and he narrowed them predatorily as he drank in the fear washing off of the redhead, almost tangible in the wintry air.

"…Hi—Hiwa…"

Voice dropping to a low whisper, Satoshi leaned in even closer until their noses were mere hairs' breadths away from touching. "…Will you scream for me, Niwa…when he comes for you and your Dark?"

Daisuke's breath was coming out in ragged gasps now, and Satoshi relented his attack and pulled away, storming off to another area of the schoolyard.

Shivering, the redhead offered him a forlorn look and pulled his own jacket closer before returning to his game, heart much heavier and feeling like it bore the weight of the world.

It was suddenly a lot colder than it had been a few moments before.

* * *

Krad at least had the good graces to wait until Satoshi had rounded the corner before he popped into his astral form and began strolling alongside the boy as he walked away, awaiting some form of explanation that he knew was coming. 

"What?" Satoshi snapped angrily, well aware of what the blonde had appeared for. Krad was silent still. "So…maybe I changed my mind."

_'You were quite specific in that stipulation for "suddenly" changing your mind.'_ Now it was the Hikari boy who said nothing. _'You were_…_serious?'_

A sigh, "Just—for one time. That's all I'm granting right now. Whatever happens tonight…will decide if I do it again." What was he _saying_? Was he actually expecting Krad to listen to him? He mentally slapped himself. Well, if worse came to worse, Krad would take his body anyway, and no amount of stipulating or setting conditions would change that.

He could at least say he _tried_. "I…thought about it, and I guessed there was nothing to lose from doing it once, so I came up with that in front of Niwa—but I'm _serious_ about the conditions." He stopped walking and turned to face the blonde, face stern as if scolding a child. "I'll…give my consent—" What the hell… "—chase him, hurt him, do what you wish, _but_—_don't_ kill him. Or I solemnly swear you _will_ regret discarding this trust I'm giving you."

Satoshi had been with his curse long enough, been in the middle of enough confrontations, to know that if he didn't specifically outline what was and what was not acceptable in this little compromise of theirs being formed right now, he was quite liable to find himself bathed in Niwa blood by the next morning.

He shivered.

_'_…_Understood, Satoshi-sama.'_

Making no sign he'd even heard or cared, Satoshi quickly glanced down at his watch and frowned, marching out a nearby gate and turning down a side street towards the police station. Now he was late for his meeting with his father.

* * *

"Come in," Hiwatari Kei called flatly as he flipped through a stack of papers that had just been faxed to him from a distant prefecture that morning. Apparently a museum there had recently received a few artworks they thought might be of interest to him, and how right they were. He smiled as he filed the papers away, muttering, "Argentine…" 

The wooden doors at the other end of the office creaked loudly as they were heaved open, revealing the stately form of his adopted son behind them. Satoshi stepped inside and shut the doors behind him. "You called me, Father?" His tone was as even as Kei's, without emotion even as he addressed his elder.

Kei stood and stepped forward to greet the boy, though refrained from hugging him as he'd done in the past. "Satoshi—it's certainly been a while. Over a month since you last came to visit."

"I make it a point not to 'visit' anyone unless I have a purpose. I've been busy with school and work, you know that."

The older man relaxed and stuck his hands in his pockets, cocking his head to the side. "Work…you say?" Satoshi didn't flinch. "Now, you know, that's really quite interesting, because for _some_ reason I received a fax late yesterday afternoon from Saehara down at the police station informing me that I needed to authorize your dismissal from the force because you were not old enough to authorize it yourself. Care to…explain?"

"Not particularly," the boy shot back unblinkingly, cold blue eyes hidden behind the thin wire frame of his glasses.

The man stepped forward, face growing serious, and he stared down at Satoshi with obvious contempt, as if daring him to speak that way again. "What do you think you're doing by trying to quit the force? Your work is not finished by far."

Not backing down, Satoshi humored him and explained succinctly. "It is not your business whether or not I finish my work—_you_ are not a Hikari elder, and so I do not answer to you in this respect. If you feel like playing father to me now and making me stay on the police force, you should have started many years ago. For now, I am tired, and so I quit. I am not asking your permission."

Kei clenched his fist at the Hikari boy's audacity. "So you're just going to _abandon_ your position in this war? As a defender of your family honor? Are you not _strong _enough to—"

"_Abandon_?" Satoshi scoffed, "How can I abandon a post I never held in the first place? And it seems to me that you are the only person in this room who gives a damn about 'Hikari family honor'—"

"I'm not the _only_ one…" Kei growled darkly, and Satoshi narrowed his eyes.

"That may be true, but _he_ answers to _me_. _I_ am his host—not you. And you'll do well to remember that I am your superior in that respect—"

_SLAP _

The shock rather than the pain was what caused Satoshi to gasp, and his hand flew up to feel what was now a red welt on his left cheek, eyes wide and stunned that this man would dare lay a finger on him.

"_Impudent brat_…" Kei hissed, though he himself was slightly surprised at his own actions.

This shock, though, was overshadowed by a new upwelling of panic as Satoshi's huddled form shimmered and shifted before him into the body shape of one he knew too well—knew and feared.

Krad stood to his full height, his golden eyes easily locking gazes with Hiwatari. Leaning forward, he gripped the man's collar in one gloved hand and pulled him close until their noses very nearly touched. Voice low, he spoke with deadly gravity, "_No one_…touches Satoshi-sama but _me_…" He could sense the quickening pulse beneath his grip, "Am I understood, _human_?"

Kei could not respond in intelligible language, but Krad took his pathetic whimper as affirmation, and let the man stand on his own again, pushing him back until he nearly fell over his own desk.

"If anyone is to have an argument about what is and is not Hikari family duty, then it shall be Satoshi-sama and I—you do not figure into our family line in any way, _Hiwatari_. Do not pretend to, or you will be _exceedingly_ sorry for it."

Not bothering to await the man's second whimpered agreement, Krad swiftly turned and marched towards the door, smirking all the while. A step before crossing the threshold, he released his hold over the boy's body, and in perfect tandem, not even missing a step, Satoshi continued their march, slamming the door shut behind him.


	4. Strange Bedfellows

_Galatea_

_Fourth Movement: Strange Bedfellows_

"He who fights with monsters must take care,  
lest he thereby become one as well."

_ Friedrich Nietzsche _

* * *

The walk home from the police station after Satoshi's meeting with his father was a quiet one, neither he nor Krad commenting on the happenings to one another. The blonde wasn't sure what exactly his host's feelings were at the moment—if he was silently fuming at having his body stolen yet again, or if perhaps he was actually offering his tacit approval by not reprimanding him right off.

Feeling he'd rather guess than learn exactly what the boy was thinking, Krad simply wavered in the back of Satoshi's mind, waiting until he was called upon or spoken to, which might be a while, given that his Tamer was always loathe to speak to him.

Once they crossed the threshold of the apartment, Satoshi removed his shoes in the genkan and cast an eye to the clock on the far wall—nearly four hours before the posted time on the advance notice. Normally he would've been on his way to the site already, shouting orders at different units and putting his men in place…but not tonight.

Rather than sending the bow Dark was targeting on ahead to a museum, it had been kept in a vault at the Klein Cathedral—former resting place of a certain other artwork, the Second Hand of Time. Since many of the other weapons in the cache had been locked in the vault as well, Saehara had wisely moved the bow to another room where it remained guarded by four officers in a room with a single entrance. At least if Dark managed to take this piece, he wouldn't be tempted to grab the entire stash at once, the department reasoned.

Satoshi slipped onto the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment and enjoying the silence. For some reason he was beyond tired, but couldn't slow his thoughts long enough to even attempt a nap. Though no doubt if he did, Krad would soon prod him awake with reminders of the compromise and his duty for the evening.

'_Tired, Satoshi-sama?'_ the voice came, as if reading his mind—which it probably had.

"…Is it that obvious?" the boy muttered in response, eyes still closed, too weary to snap at the intrusion, "…I've never…spoken to Niwa like that before…why _now_…?"

Krad balked—was that a question aimed at him? Or was it another of his host's rambling monologues in which he tried to determine just where his day had taken a downturn? Best to keep quiet, he was already pushing his allowances enough with Dark this evening.

"…Krad."

Golden eyes blinked as they phased into view; had he actually been _called_? He'd been summoned before, yes, but then he had always seen it coming, had known that something had happened in which his host would desire to speak to him. Right now he had no idea the train of thought Satoshi was following, _'Yes, Satoshi-sama?'_

Turning his gaze quickly away after opening them to see if the blonde was responding, the boy frowned and leaned forward. "…I'm going to ask you something, and I—I want you to answer me. Honestly." He shot his gaze upwards and locked firmly on Krad's. "_Honestly_."

Wondering just what could make the boy ask him something _civilly_, the image shifted in its stance, crossing his arms and staring down with a blank expression. In what he hoped was a convincing gesture, Krad nodded firmly.

A deep breath was taken and slowly released, and Satoshi stood in place. "I want you to tell me why you're doing this—why you asked me to let you fight Dark, rather than just taking my body like you always do." As if to remind him, he narrowed his fierce blue eyes, "And I said I wanted an _honest_ answer."

Krad's gaze now wavered uncertainly and he could no longer look the boy directly in his eyes. _'I_…_I'm afraid I can't tell you that_…_'_ was the pathetic excuse. Satoshi seemed to think the same of the reply, and scoffed.

"I _knew_ it… You're planning something that I _know_ I'm not going to like—and all I was hoping was that you respected me enough as your Tamer to at least give me some _warning_. It's not as if I could stop you anyway probably…" A harsh laugh, "Gods, I'm so gullible…"

'_No!'_ the blonde protested, hurt washing over his face, and he took a step forward in desperation, _'No—it's not that! I just_…_I can't tell you why!'_

"And why _not_?"

A pause, _'_…_Because you wouldn't believe me_…_'_

Blue eyes rolled, "That's quite possibly the most pathetic excuse I've heard from you yet! You're not me—you can't determine what I will and will not believe! Give me the reason and _I'll_ be the one to ju—"

'You wouldn't, I know it. You wouldn't trust any reason I gave as truth—simply because no reason will suit you. You think this whole thing is simply a way to undermine you, or free myself from guilt, and you won't be satisfied with any reasoning short of that. Am I wrong? Truly, think about it—am I wrong?'

Satoshi opened his mouth to offer a sharp retort, then quickly closed it again and growled, "That's no reason to keep the truth from me! If I have to be your host, then I want some kind of compensation, dammit! I didn't have to agree to this compromise anyway!"

'_That's right, you didn't—but you must have come to some conclusion regarding my motives that pushed you in that direction, didn't you? You're a very shrewd boy, Satoshi-sama_…_You don't view this as any compromise—you view it as more of_…_a treaty, with giving and taking to be done on both sides. You give me consent, and I give you my word: word that I will not kill—'_

"There! That!" Satoshi interrupted, eyes flashing, and he pointed a finger accusingly at the blonde, "That right there! Word that you won't kill—see, I _know_ something's up, then! You claim that that's your whole purpose for being here—to kill Niwa. Then suddenly one day you decide you'd rather submit to my demands that you _not_ kill him than just take my body and do the damn deed!"

Krad seemed to be growing uneasy under the interrogation—he hadn't been expecting this. But, what exactly could he say? The real reason? Certainly not! Not yet, at least…Satoshi wasn't ready for that yet…

"You know I'll never give my consent for you to kill either Niwa _or_ Dark—no matter how great a thorn in my side those two might become, because I refuse to take any lives for this cursed family that should have died out long ago. I refuse to perpetuate this feud any longer, and I refuse to give my approval for anything like murder. Dark's a thief, and so I will allow you to attempt to stop him—"

'_Attempt?'_ Krad almost sounded offended that his Tamer apparently didn't think him capable.

"—But you know I'll never let you kill them if I have anything to do with it. You're _stuck_ Krad! Stuck like this—there's no way out for you, don't think I haven't noticed it. And I know you are not one to accept stagnating away like this, so _why_ consign yourself to it?! _Tell me_!"

Krad stared down at his host, studying the face and marveling at the emotions displayed consciously and unconsciously: anger, entreaty, anxiety, fear, confusion…all swirling in a beautiful mask.

'…_Does it frighten you, not knowing my motives?'_

Satoshi paled, anger rising up over the other emotions, now joined by a stark splash of pride in his eyes, "Like hell—I can handle you. But I'm not going to say it doesn't bug me not knowing what you're planning."

'_Then I will tell you.'_ The boy perked up slightly, eyes hardening, _'_…_When you're ready to hear it_…_which I'm afraid may be some time from now_…_'

* * *

_

It was only after their tiff regarding Krad's revealing his reasons for the compromise that the blonde realized that he was treading on very thin ice if he still wished the boy to allow him to fight Dark that evening. Satoshi had always, though, seemed to have the ability to make him forget almost everything else when he happened to acknowledge his curse's existence, rare though those occasions were. Krad settled back and decided he didn't need to be at the cathedral until the very last moment before the announced time, so he would refrain from pressing his luck any further that evening—should the boy "forget" their agreement, he would, of course, remind him at that point, and then…well, they would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

Truthfully he was desperately curious as to how his host was taking all this. Of course he could sense thoughts which streamed over into him whenever Satoshi happened to be feeling particularly strong emotions, and he could even delve into the boy's mind and find hidden secrets himself should he need to—though he never intended to do such a thing, as with it came the risk of permanently damaging the fragile environment inside Satoshi's head. He could always use it as a threat though—what did his host know of Krad's abilities anyway?

Four o'clock came and crept by, and five o' clock with the same results—yet still not a word was spoken. The boy had lounged on the couch, no doubt thinking nasty thoughts about his curse, for an hour or so after he'd gotten home, then risen to cook a pot of soup which he'd downed quickly. Mundane household chores and school-related tasks took up the rest of the afternoon, and before Krad knew it, it was 5:45, a mere fifteen minutes before the announced time of 6:00—Niwa Emiko probably wanted her son home early for dinner this evening.

Satoshi was washing dishes, though, not even paying attention to the clock. He showed no signs of being done soon, nor gave any indication that he intended to halt his chores to allow Krad a night out chasing phantom thieves. Apparently their compromise _hadn't_ been that strong…and the blonde's inability to provide his Tamer with a suitable reply to his question appeared to have driven the usual wedge which separated them even further. Dark would have an easy steal tonight.

"Would you stop that already? It's giving me a headache…your moping and whining." Satoshi toweled off one last plate and set it on the drying rack with the others to which he'd already attended, ignoring the pile that still remained.

Krad perked up at finally being addressed, but didn't intend on letting this show in his voice, _'Well can you blame me? After all this patient waiting and you're not even going to reward me—ignoring me the whole afternoon and not even having the good graces to tell me you were breaking our agreeme—'_

"Gods, you're pathetic," the boy snapped, tossing the towel onto the counter by the sink as he wandered out of the kitchen and back into his bedroom, "That's no different from any afternoon before; I _never_ talk to you. Don't act as if it's some new development." He flipped the light switch on and wandered over to his bay window, pulling aside the curtains to stare out at the skyline. "…And I never said I was breaking the agreement…"

'_But_…_earlier, you weren't_…_satisfied_…_with my answer—'_

"_What_ answer? You never gave me one, remember?" he snapped, "…I never said that your response would have any effect on whether or not I let you out tonight, though. I simply wanted a reason. If you refuse to give me one, then what other choice do I _really_ have?"

Krad paused before offering the hesitant suggestion, _'_…_I did give you the option of forbidding me from fighting, you know.'_

Satoshi's face twisted into a frown, as if he didn't like being reminded of this fact. "…I've already told Niwa I was releasing you though…it'd be something of an assault on my pride if I didn't." There, that sounded more like him, he hoped. "Rest assured that is virtually the _only _reason you'll be out there tonight." He reached up and unlatched the window, letting the doors swing inwards and relishing the nip of the wintry night air as it breezed softly over his flesh. "The Klein Cathedral—I trust you know where it is. I'm not going to be spouting directions in your head all night. You've got less than ten minutes—Saehara and the rest of the force will already be in place. The bow is being stored in the—"

'—_parlor at the base of the bell tower.' _There was a short pause as blue eyes shot open in confusion. _'Right?'_

"…Right…but, how…?"

Another pause, and the reply came almost sheepishly, admitting, _'I read your notes when you flipped through them this morning_…_'_

Satoshi's lips pursed into a frown, "When you _knew_ I wasn't going to let you go anyways? You still looked, knowing it would do you no good?" The boy was having his doubts now, strongly suspecting that the blonde had intended all along to take his body and go out to battle Dark regardless of his consent, or lack thereof, rather.

'…_I won't deny I was hoping you'd change your mind.'_

Sighing, Satoshi resigned himself to his fate—there was no arguing with the blonde at this point. "Just—_go_. And don't talk to me." Then, just in case, he added, "And no _killing_." Gods, he sounded like he was lecturing a small child… But if he had to stop Krad at the last minute, he was sure he could. He'd wrested control from the blonde before, he could do it again—maybe. Possibly. He really didn't want to test that theory.

'_Understood_…_'

* * *

_

Getting to the cathedral was one thing. Getting _into_ the cathedral was another.

As per usual on a night when an advance notice was sent out, the area surrounding the building—parking lots, lawns, driveways, streets—was completely covered in vans, cars, trucks, even people sitting out in lawn chairs and picnic blankets. Everyone was waiting to catch a glimpse of the famous Kaitou Dark tonight: the media, police force, even the rank-and-file had gathered in droves. This, altogether, made it quite difficult for Krad to swoop in and catch his prey by surprise. Ah well—that simply made the game all the more interesting.

Alighting lightly on a rooftop across the street, and well away from the spotlights sweeping back and forth across the sky around the cathedral, Krad relaxed and slipped into a seated position to determine his next course of action. It would be foolhardy to rush in right now and lie in wait for Dark, as the humans scrambling below would see him and alert everyone—Dark included—to his presence. That meant a few more minutes of waiting until the thief fluttered into sight. And then…?

Should he allow his rival to enter unassailed, hitting him when he tried to leave? Or pounce on him just as he was about to land on the cathedral roof, engaging the thief in early battle?

The question was: from which situation could Dark most easily escape?

Krad had to remind himself that the point of this excursion was not to kill Dark…sadly. It was, rather, to gain some base trust from his own Tamer. Why would he want trust, one might ask? That in itself…was the entire basis for his current dilemma. He wanted trust, and Satoshi wouldn't give it to him until he proved he was worthy of it. So here he was, contemplating how best to maim and injure his nemesis without inflicting deadly blows…

And it was all his blasted host's fault.

Still reeling mentally from the guilt trip he'd embarked upon when Satoshi broke down the evening after he'd been rejected by one Niwa Daisuke, Krad reflected that this was in fact the complex reasoning behind his meager "compromise"—the reasoning his Tamer was not yet ready to hear.

For how on earth could the boy ever accept that he, Krad of the Hikari, had not _once_ in his entire existence cried? No, never had his eyes felt that strange prick building up behind them, begging to be released. Nor had he ever felt his chest tighten up with pain, his breath growing short as he struggled to keep all that emotion in that was bound and determined to flow free.

He could recall one, maybe two hosts before truly breaking down in tears, but…it had never been because of him. Hikari Akira had lost his mother on the night of his fourteenth birthday as she rushed home over rain-slicked cobblestone streets to make it to the grand party which had been prepared for him—a party he fled in tears when the Monaco police-master arrived at the Hikari Estate in Villefranche on the Côte d'Azur with the news that his mother's carriage had overturned at a sharp bend barely a mile from the house and trapped the woman inside as she drowned in a sinkhole.

Then there had been the ill-fated Hikari Izumi, who couldn't seem to understand that the Niwas were his _enemies_…even female ones. That falling in love with one would only bring him pain…

On second thought, that incident with Izumi probably _had_ been his fault…ah well.

There had, however, been some new element to Satoshi's tears—something foreign he couldn't quite reach out and grasp, something…something…that had made him want to change how the boy saw him. As more than simply curse he hated, day in and day out, as more than his horrid fate that he didn't deserve, as more than some demon without thoughts or feelings, who cared for no one and nothing. Something…

Well what did it matter? The point was he didn't intend to break his word. And Dark, he felt certain, wouldn't exactly stroll into his grasp without a fight, so there was little chance he'd need to hold himself back. Up to now he'd always put forth his all in battles with the thief, and so far this incarnation he'd held up quite well.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…_Dark_…"

In the distance, the great clock downtown echoed six loud gongs through the early evening air, sending a flock of doves from their roost in a tree to Krad's left. A wave of excited shushes rippled through the crowd, and cameras panned the sky, grateful for the bit of sunlight still present that would let them get a shot of Dark.

Almost in pity, Krad shook his golden head, "Really…how on earth does he expect to be a decent thief if everyone always expects his arrival with _this_ much fanfare?" As if on cue, an excited yelp rose up from a girl seated near one of the news vans, and every eye was drawn her way. Golden eyes followed her pointing as he stood up. "About time…"

Two white wings he'd had pulled close to his body to conceal his figure popped open, catching fading air currents and making it difficult for the blonde to maintain his footing, but he wavered for a few moments more. Sure enough, there were the familiar black wings, slicing downward in what looked to be a free-fall, but was in actuality Dark simply showing off. "Cocky tonight, aren't we?" Krad mused, a sinister smile on his smooth features.

He adjusted his gloves disdainfully, as if he was about to touch something repulsive, and with a few measured beats of the great white wings, he rose into the air, waiting until he was a good few stories higher before plunging downward at an angle to slam into Dark as he alighted on the cathedral rooftop. The cold air whipped his face violently, stinging his eyes, and his golden mane trailed behind him like a flag.

In a flash, all the eyes that had been focusing on the rapidly descending Dark now were drawn over to focus on the rapidly descending Krad. Cameras flashed, the spotlight turned, and Dark pouted, "…Show off."

The thief had no more time to sulk than this, though, as his feet had barely graced the roofing tiles before he was nearly thrown off the ledge and sent hurtling five stories down. Krad was immediately in his face, "It's been a while, hasn't it Dark?"

"Not—long—_enough_—" Dark lashed out with one foot, intent on at least knocking the blond off balance if not off the roof entirely. Instead, Krad blocked the incoming appendage with his forearm before it connected with his chest, and nearly caused Dark's plan to backfire as he flailed about wildly with his wings.

"Come now, you're making this _too_ easy…"

"Right you are," Dark shot back in a huff, and fluttered as best he could just out of Krad's reach, settling back down just in front of a skylight. "Let's take this elsewhere, shall we? I do have a job to do, and messing around with you up here isn't getting it done any faster." The blonde streaked forward, but Dark had already taken a step backwards onto the fragile glass pane, shattering it almost instantly and sending them both falling into the cathedral auditorium.

Both managed to right themselves before reaching the ground, but rather than engaging in a fight as he would have under circumstances other than a job, Dark tore off down the aisle towards the rear of the building, hopping over bits and pieces of glass and wood that the two had brought down with them. The bow first—Krad later, or not at all. Daisuke's screaming inside his head was enough to remind him of that much.

'_F—FASTER! Hurry up and get the stupid bow so we can leave!'_

"Why Dai, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were a little nervous," the thief panted as he took a flight of steps two at a time headed up to the bell tower. He emerged at the end of a long hallway lined with doors—no doubt the dormitories for students, since the building had long ago been a Catholic School. "Parlor…parlor…" He heard no following footsteps, but nevertheless he made his pace quick and light over the soft wood floor as he padded down the hallway, head turning left and right, scanning the plates on the doors. "Lucky!" He smiled, and reached forward to turn the knob on the second door from the end.

Dark quickly jerked his hand back, though, as if he'd been shocked, when a streak of light flew over it, opening up a long gash just in front of his wrist. He whipped his head back to the stairs, taking in the sight of Krad sashaying down the hallway, one hand resting lightly on the banister. "Tsk tsk tsk…growing lax in our old age are we?" Dark's eyes darted to the doorknob again, and he reached forward. Krad stopped and smiled softly, "That's a windowless room, Dark…and that door is its only entrance and exit. There are four humans from the police force already in there—and I fully intend to follow you… Should you really go in, do you think?"

"Well now, wasn't that nice of you to warn me, so I didn't go in there unprepared?" Dark leered, mouth relaxing into a lopsided grin, "I think someone has a crush on someone else, Kradders…" Golden eyes narrowed viciously, and he raised a gloved hand to fire another blast at the thief, who hastily slung the door open and slipped inside. He was flung forward by the blast which followed behind him, shattering the door into thousands of shards which scattered everywhere and blanketed the room in a fine sheen of dust.

The four officers shrank away quickly at the blast, covering their faces and coughing violently, yet making sure they maintained positions near the bow, which glittered surreally in its glass cage, almost beckoning Dark closer. The thief was only too happy to oblige—and speedily at that.

Not even waiting for the dust to settle all the way, he took advantage of the momentary blinding of the officers and cracked the case, slinging the bow over his shoulder so it wouldn't hamper any fighting he might have to engage in. Turning on his heel, his stomach did a little flip when he saw the familiar form filling the doorway, then jerked his head around back behind him to see that the four officers were standing upright again, each reaching for his firearm.

"K-Kaitou Dark…" one began bravely—most likely a rookie from the quavering in his voice at finally facing the famous thief—and trained his gun on the Niwa curse, who shrank away slightly, torn as to which way to turn now, "Y-you're under arrest, for the theft of—of the _St. Tears_, the _Fallen Angel's Love Potion_, the _Moonlight Mask_, the _Sage of Sleep_, the _Kan no Ken_, the—"

"Oh give _up_, would you? Honestly, your whole force is so pathetic I ought to start expanding my horizons and going after some real worthy objects…" He rolled his eyes and rested a hand on his hip, "I mean, you couldn't catch a cold—it's almost an insult to my pride to steal things this incarnation! And the way you all take orders from that Saehara oaf makes me wonder if you're not as stupid or more so than h—"

"Sh—shut up! Or I'll—I'll—" In what he hoped was a threatening gesture, he cocked the gun angrily, finger trembling on the trigger, and his fellow officers eyed him nervously, urging him to calm down.

"Ne, Norita…we—we haven't been given permission to fire…"

"Shut up!" he barked harshly, appearing to have gained a backbone now, "If he makes one move, I'm shooting! We were told to protect that artwork, so that's what we're gonna—"

There was a loud _PING_, and the gun clattered to the floor, exploding in a blast of powder as it fired, frightening all four officers into submission.

"I'll have you not wave such a thing as that so freely around my prey… I'm afraid I can't let you shoot him, _boy_." Five pairs of eyes focused on the golden-haired figure still standing in the doorframe, buffing his nails on the lapel of his coat.

"Who—who are you?" the officer who'd threatened Dark spoke up again, "And what authority do you have here? We were specially assigned to protect this work, and if Inspector Saeh—"

"Well join the club, won't you?" Krad drawled, glaring daggers at the man and daring him to continue speaking in such a condescending manner. "Do shut up." His gaze shot back over to Dark now, who had both hands clenched firmly around the grip of the bow, weight resting on his rear leg as if preparing to bolt. Taking a slow, measured step forward, Krad's grin widened—was Dark actually _scared_? He'd never seen the thief in such a stance as this; it almost made him look like a cornered animal.

Then, Dark blinked a few times, straightened up, and said something Krad had most certainly not expected:

"…Kyuu?"

Golden eyes narrowing in momentary confusion, he pondered if perhaps this had been the breaking point for his rival of so many generations. Perhaps their curse had finally taken its toll on the thief—

"Daisuki!" The voice was Dark's to be sure, but never had he heard the man quite so…cheery. It was decidedly unnerving, the way the thief face positively _glowed_ in happiness now.

'_It's that damn familiar, idiot!'_

"The—familiar?" Gears began turning in the blonde's head, and he followed Dark's gaze, quivering with tears of happiness, over his left shoulder—just in time to meet the _real_ Dark…along with the real Dark's hard right punch.

With no time to block, Krad flew backwards from the force of the blow, wings folding around himself instinctively in a cocoon. He slammed into the stand the bow had been situated on, sending the officers scattering about the room. Dark quickly motioned to With to get out of the room while Krad was down, to which the sprite was only too glad to oblige.

"H—hey! Wait one minute, you!" the guard piped up again, perhaps emboldened by Krad's fall, and pointed an accusing finger at the real Dark this time. "I—I dunno if you're the real Dark or not either, but y-you're under arrest as well, for stealing the _St. Tears_, the _Fallen Angel's Love Potion_, the _Moonlight Mask_, the _Sage of Sleep_, the _Kan no Ken_, the—"

"Shut _UP_!" two voices chorused, and Officer Norita's associates whipped around to face Krad, who was steadying himself against the wall while he regained his bearings.

'_That was quite impressive, I must say,'_ a smug voice echoed in the blonde's skull, and Krad frowned savagely, though more upset with himself than his host's comment.

"I don't need any commentary, _thank you_," he hissed low, then turned his gaze back towards Dark as he dusted off his long robes. "Well it seems I've been fooled…"

"Understatement," was the droll response, with the thief suppressing a wide grin.

"You Niwas must have been practicing to trick me so."

"No more than usual…doesn't take much to pull one over on you—obsession tends to blind you a bit."

Krad's frown deepened, drawing lines of malice along his smooth features that made it look more as if he'd caught a whiff of some detestable scent that was lingering just under his nose. "…I wonder if you quite remember what happened the _last _time you embarrassed me, thief…"

Dark's laughing died away, and his face washed over pale as his heart skipped a beat. He was careful not to let anything resembling fear leak into his voice, but he still couldn't help the slight quaver. "If you _dare_ hurt innocents outside of our feud—"

"You'll what?" the blonde laughed, "Punish me? Like you tried before?"

The familiar smirk slowly returned to Dark's face, "…I know about you and your little agreement with your Tamer—you can't kill anyone now. You're just where your precious Hikari clan always wanted you…right under their thumbs."

Holding up a slender finger, Krad tutted softly, "We simply agreed that I wasn't to kill _you_… There was nothing spoken of these petty humans." He jerked his head to regard the officers who'd regrouped in the corner, still trying to keep Norita from firing his gun.

Before Dark could respond, Satoshi took the chance to clarify himself in Krad's mind, _'No! I said no killing! Not Dark, not Niwa, and not the officers Saehara sent in here who had no choice but to get stuck in this fight! Do you hear me? You lay one finger on them and this is all over! I'll fight you with every shred of consciousness I have, I swear—'_

'_Hush, Satoshi-sama!'_ was the firm reprimand, and Krad pursed his lips for show, _'I knew that from the beginning. But there's no reason Dark needs to know as well—as if he'd truly call my bluff!'_

Slightly more at ease from the reassurance, the boy settled back again and let his curse continue work unhindered.

From here on, all parties understood, it would be a battle of might between Dark and Krad—for the fragile agreement that had stood between Satoshi and Dark, the thief understood well, would not hold true for Daisuke and Krad. Regardless of the form a Niwa appeared in, Krad would stretch his allowances to their limits, assuming he intended on keeping the compromise or whatever it was.

If he transformed back…Krad would break the Niwa boy, most certainly—take him to the brink of death before reigning himself in. No…Dark would fight as himself before subjecting his host to that kind of torture. He'd endured it before, he would endure it again. There was no gambling on tacit agreements this time.

"…I know you have to let me go eventually, Krad."

"But before that happens I'm allowed a bit of playtime, Dark." He took a measured step forward, and the thief responded with a backwards step of his own, now quite distracted by his host's worrying thoughts flooding into him.

'_With's already out of the building! Let's just get outside and leave! You can fight Krad_…_well, I don't know when you can fight Krad again, but not now! Come on, Dark!' _There was no response; Dark was too busy eyeing the blonde's every move so as not to get caught off guard. His rival had an annoying ability to move almost imperceptibly should Dark dare even blink. _'Ne! Let's go!'_

Frowning, the thief tossed out a soft curse and spun around on his heel, darting out the doorframe he'd been standing in. Running away certainly wasn't his style, but with Daisuke's urging echoing in his skull and the officers to be worried about, he couldn't risk a big battle—especially not in such small quarters.

"Ah ah ah…" Krad chided softly, not even moving to give chase, and twirled a finger around something in midair, yanking backwards with a hard jerk as if snapping a taut thread.

With a pitiable yelp, Dark clapped a hand to his upper left arm, grimacing in pain and nearly sinking to his knees as he clenched his eyes shut to keep tears from leaking out.

"Oh…did that hurt?" the blonde chuckled as he sauntered closer, "All that conversing with your host during battle makes you lose your concentration it seems… You really ought to work on keeping your threads concealed better, you know."

'_Dark!'_ Daisuke continued pounding his counterpart with pleas, _'Get up! He's coming—GET UP!'_

"I'm _trying_…_dammit_…" he hissed under his breath, and it wasn't a lie—it was taking all his strength and concentration to keep himself wobbling on two legs as he leaned against the wall beside him rather than simply sinking to the ground before Krad. Desperation was beginning to cloud his thoughts, rendering his usually lighting-quick thinking sluggish. His arm throbbed incessantly, but with more of a dull ache than the stab he'd felt when his rival had yanked one of his threads—that gave him roughly an hour before the damage became irreversible. An hour to get out from under Krad, an hour to get out of the building and find With, an hour to wing his way home with an injured arm that only astral energies could heal. He shook his head to clear his thoughts—the last thing he needed was to lose even more concentration and suffer another injury.

"There is no familiar here to save you this time, Dark…and no stupid bet to allow you to shift back to your weak little host. It's simply you and me, as it's been for generations." His smile waxed almost nostalgic, "It does bring back memories, does it not?"

"Of you being a homicidal maniac?" Dark wheezed, "Yeah, the good old days. Nice to see some things never change."

"I suppose that shows what you know," Krad retorted unthinkingly, then immediately reprimanded himself. He didn't need the thief going around thinking he was actually growing _soft_.

"After three hundred years, I'd _think _I knew you." He slowly pushed away from the wall and stood unsteadily on his own in the center of the hall, tottering precariously. "You not being a possessive freak anymore would be like me deciding offhand that I was bored with stealing your crap and pissing you off—it just isn't gonna happen, you know?"

The blonde was about to offer a scathing response, when the sound of feet shuffling behind him caught him off guard, and he cocked his head to the side to see what the source of the noise was. "…Not _you_ imbeciles again…"

Certain that he'd gotten the culprit right this time, Officer Norita trained his gun on the white-robed figure whose back he was faced with. Third time was a charm, right? "N-now you listen here, I'm tired of going through this spiel and being interrupted, so you just stand there and shut up, alright?" Krad made no move to respond, merely glared and stood in as apathetic a pose as he could effect. "Right, s-so, Kaitou Dark, you're under arrest for stealing the _St. Tears_, the _Fallen Angel's Love Potion_, the _Moonlight Mask_, the _Sage of Sleep_, the _Kan no Ken_, among others, and…well, now I can add the _Yume no Yumi_, to the list, too. If you'd like to see a full list of the crimes you're being arrested for, one will be provided for you within twenty-four hours of your arrest. Now please raise your arms away from your body, and—"

"Do I even _look_ like that thief to you, human?" Krad spat harshly, "Are you honestly so taken in by appearances that you can't even differentiate properly between myself and that Niwa curse?!" This was ridiculous; why was he even wasting his time? Didn't he have more important matters to attend to, like Dark himself?

"We—I…" Norita sputtered, "Just, you—and then he—ah!" He cut himself off and pointed, yelping, behind Krad, who turned a lazy eye behind him to see what had the human all excited. "Hey, you! We're not through yet! You're still a suspect! Get back here!"

Dark had apparently taken the few spare moments while Krad argued with the police officers to gather up his strength, and was now darting down the hallway towards a window near the staircase—too far gone for Krad to easily catch him.

Cursing softly to himself, golden eyes shot over to Norita again, whose mouth was still sputtering futile orders to Dark. A wave of apathy washed over the blonde, and he found himself actually somewhat grateful for the distraction; he still hadn't figured out just how he was going to "let" the thief escape after their battle, a necessary evil if he wished to gain his host's approval.

"Why don't you do us all a favor and _never_ interfere with our battle again, ne?" he snapped to the officers, and all but Norita cringed.

"Why don't _you_ do _us_ a favor and keep your nose out of police business?"

A smile flickered across Krad's mindscape, and a light voice uttered approvingly, _'I always did kind of like Norita, he had such good ideas_… _And I can't believe you got distracted by a rookie_…_'_

"Would you kindly shut up, Satoshi-sama?" Krad muttered, and Norita perked up, thinking he was being addressed.

"No I won't shut up! Because of your interference we've lost the _Yume no Yumi_, a priceless work of art—"

"Please, human, you've not been able to keep Hikari works out of Dark's hands before, even without my involvement. Why should tonight be any different?" Norita had no response. "Put up more of a fight for the blasted artpiece next time, won't you? It does get tedious doing all your work." With that, he turned and marched out the door and down the steps, emerging on the front lawn, and found himself faced with some fifteen police cars, each with officers standing by with guns trained on him.

'_Oh that was a smart move. Even Dark had enough sense to jump out a window at the back of the building to avoid the front forces.'_

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me this evening, Satoshi-sama." This seemed to effectively shut the boy up, and he cracked a small smile. True, he hadn't been expecting such a welcome, but then, did it really matter? When you were Krad of the Hikari, no it didn't.

It did sting his pride, though, to use a trick Dark had once employed, but if it worked well enough to get him and his host safely back to Satoshi's apartment, he would indulge it this once. Reaching around to his shoulder, he ignored Saehara's barking order to stay completely still and put his hands in the air, and instead plucked a single white feather and held it high over his head.

Before Saehara or any other officers could even realize what the being before them meant to do, they all squeezed their eyes shut instinctively as the entire front lawn was bathed in brilliant light so intense that they couldn't see anything for another half a minute afterwards—more than enough time for Krad to make his departure. When the world came back into focus, there was no Dark—white or normal. Saehara cursed long and loud, and no one really paid him much attention; the other officers were all too engrossed in the tale being related by one Norita Akira, of how he did battle inside the tower with—not one, not two, but _three_ Kaitou Darks, protecting his fellow officers as they stood back and watched in horror.

The three officers he'd been "protecting" weren't going to refute him, though, as they were involved in their own talks. Talks centering on two names mentioned by the strange white-winged man who'd barged in and started fighting Dark…

_Hikari_…_Niwa_…

* * *

Satoshi sat cross-legged on his mattress and stared ahead at his curse, standing at the foot of the bed before him and apparently waiting for some sort of, "Well done" or something from the boy.

While he had no intention of rewarding the blonde with any sort of praise such as that, he _did_ feel that Krad merited…well, _some_thing in response to his actions that evening. "…Dark's next notice won't come for at least another week…" he began softly, then his voice became firmer as he continued, "Don't speak of this agreement in any manner to me until that point in time. Only then will I decide what to do with you."

So, his Tamer _wasn't_ displeased with his performance that evening? He was actually entertaining thoughts of possibly allowing Krad to go out again?

"…Goodnight," he muttered hastily, and slid underneath the covers, quickly pulling them over his head so his curse couldn't see his face crack an unwilling smile, elicited by Krad's own elation. His heart thumped a little faster in his chest as he went over the evening—he'd no doubt get a sound reaming from Niwa the next day, but it hadn't been quite as bad as he'd been expecting.

Had it been Krad's emotions simply flowing over into his own consciousness, or had he actually felt something of a thrill when Dark's face had washed over pale? He'd made snide comments every now and then, but they were mostly to keep _himself_ in check, really, rather than to make fun of his curse's little shortcomings. Truthfully…it had been a new experience, actually having the upperhand in a battle with the thief—and what _had_ Krad done that seemed to hurt Dark without him laying a finger on him?

There were so many facets to the two clans' battles he'd never noticed before—or rather, never cared enough about to notice. But…was he actually going to let this engulf him? Was he truly going to _let_ Krad do as he pleased, provided he simply didn't _kill_?

Gods, his life was so confusing.

* * *

"Hi—Hiwatari-kun!" a voice huffed, obviously bereft of breath from darting through the halls in search of Satoshi. The blue-haired boy slowed to a halt and turned his head slowly to the side to glance over his shoulder at his pursuer, and then proceeded to narrow his eyes and continue to walk on when he saw who it was.

"Wa—wait! Hiwatari-kun!" Niwa Daisuke's voice grated on his ears now as it never had before. Any other time they'd spoken he'd been pleased to offer counsel to the redhead, who simply couldn't seem to grasp the fact that the two were enemies—or rather, _refused_ to accept it. But right now he simply didn't wish to listen or speak to the boy, and he quickened his pace.

The steps following behind him sped up, and the crunch of gravel as he was chased across the school grounds ran rough and unwelcome across his eardrums, inwardly flinching. He was nearly to the gate, nearly out of Niwa's sight, until something yanked on his sleeve and pulled him backwards, almost sending him to the ground in an unruly heap.

"I said _wait_—didn't you hear me?" The voice was offended, and mildly annoyed, but still as forgiving as always, ready to accept almost any explanation Satoshi could offer.

Reluctantly he turned to look up into the red eyes narrowed at him in question—why was he avoiding him, they asked, why had he not answered when Daisuke had called? Straightening back up and turning his gaze down to his sleeve, still held tight in the Niwa boy's grasp, he grunted and snatched his arm back. "What do you need, Niwa? I've got quite a bit of homework to make up for missing class yesterday—I don't need to waste time here talking to you."

Daisuke reddened—though probably more from anger than the usual attractive blush he wore around Riku or Risa. "I just—" He cast a furtive glance around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation, "I…wanted to ask you something about last night…"

Straightening his collar and facing forward again, Satoshi simply replied, "Ask then. I may not answer."

"Why did…you let him out?" A pause, and then as if for some reason doubting Satoshi would know whom they were talking about, he added, "Krad…I thought you hated him—you said you'd never let him out…"

"My reasoning is none of your concern—he and I are—"

"The hell it isn't!" Daisuke snapped back, a little loudly, earning him rude stares from a group of girls a few yards away, and he backed down, hissing in a heated whisper, "It's my concern more than anyone else's! You just—let him out for a joyride! Have some fun with Dark, and hurt me at the same time. Two birds with one stone I see."

Satoshi's expression did not change in the slightest, still cold and unmoved by the implication. "You'll pardon me if you were injured…but wouldn't that be an issue you should take up with your _own_ curse, and not with mine? It's his fault, don't you think? I cannot order Dark to stop stealing my family's treasures—so do not think yourself capable of ordering _my_ curse to stop trying to kill you."

Face washing over pale, Daisuke's pupils shrunk to tiny dots, realization dawning, "You…you're just going to let him _use_ you…to kill us?"

"_Use_ me? That would imply, Niwa, that I was not a willing party in that escapade—or any escapades to come."

"To…come?" Satoshi nodded grimly. "Then you're…every time Dark goes out…"

"_He_ will be there to greet you." He couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips, "I suppose I'll be seeing you around then, won't I?" A mock bow, "If you'll excuse me," and he turned on his heel and started back across the front lawn headed for the main gate.

With his back to Daisuke, he neither saw, nor would ever have expected, the punch that came flying into the back of his skull, sending him sprawling to the ground with stars flashing multi-hued in his eyes as he blinked stupidly at the ground beneath his hands, case flung open and spilling papers everywhere. He lifted his head slowly and turned to see Daisuke standing a few feet behind him, red eyes quivering with frustration, cradling his fist and trying to hide the reddened knuckles. Satoshi's breath hitched as he registered that Niwa had actually _hit_ him.

The boy had hit him! Niwa Daisuke! The gentlest soul alive, who blushed when Riku complimented his paintings, who always bowed to his elders, who smiled entirely too much for a junior high student—had _hit_ him!

And it wasn't a half-thought action—there had been no holding back, he'd put his full kaitou strength into the punch, aiming for what he deemed was the most vulnerable point on Satoshi's back. And indeed, the blow had snapped his head forward, straining his neck and clapping his chin roughly to his chest, making him bite his lip unintentionally, flooding his mouth with a familiar copper flavor.

A few students had seen the action, apparently, and gasped sharply as they watched the ever cool, ever calm Hiwatari Satoshi fall sprawling to the ground at Niwa Daisuke's feet, and then rise with some effort. This in turn pulled in other students to watch, and what a sight it was.

"I hope you were paying attention behind Dark all those nights." Satoshi wiped his lip nonchalantly, and picked his broken glasses up off the ground, placing them in a pocket. As he rolled up his sleeves slowly, a group of some ten or twenty had now gathered, sensing something brewing between the two least likely to ever speak a harsh word to one another.

Satoshi indulged another smirk, then zipped forward under Daisuke's guard and connected his fist to the boy's chin in a swift uppercut—apparently Niwa hadn't really expected any retaliation, the idiot. His chin snapped upwards sickeningly quickly, and he flew back a few feet before landing on his rear, massaging his jaw, with livid fury now bubbling in his eyes.

Stepping close to stand over him, Satoshi hissed low in a mocking whisper, "…And you call yourself a kaitou…"

Red eyes narrowing, Daisuke executed a swift—if not graceful—backflip from his seated position to put himself back onto his feet, then shot forward to aim a blow at Satoshi's throat, hoping to knock the wind out of him, but was foiled by an anticipatory block from the former commander.

"Can't believe…you let him…use your body like that…" Daisuke grunted, as he pulled back and aimed anew, only to be blocked once again.

"To carry out family duty?" Satoshi retorted, suddenly dropping like a brick to dodge a hit to his head, and rammed a fist into Daisuke's exposed stomach, sending him staggering backwards. A few girls gasped loudly at the action, but he tuned them out. "It's no different from you and him."

"I would…never…let him use my body…to hurt others…" Daisuke slipped to one knee, cradling his stomach, muttering curses between gasps.

"…Then that is the difference between us, isn't it?"

The Niwa boy raised his head to stare into the cold blue eyes, and growled lowly. Bracing his arms on both sides of him, in one swift fluid motion he thrust his legs forward out from underneath him and swept Satoshi to the ground, bringing them back around to stand triumphant over him, their roles now reversed.

Grinding a foot into his stomach, as if about to step on him, Daisuke leaned down and studied the bruised face, aware that his own, by now, looked much the same.

"No…there's something more… He's gotten to you…gotten his hooks in you, he's—"

"Shut up! You shut up about him!" Satoshi shot a hand out and grabbed hold of the ankle of the foot on his chest, giving it a sharp squeeze, knowing well that if the Niwa boy ever wished to use it again when leaping from rooftop to rooftop he'd remove it from his grasp as quickly as possible. When Daisuke stepped back, Satoshi leaped forward, using the break in the fight to gain the upper hand again—or at least, that was his intention.

"Hiwatari-kun! Niwa-kun!" Strong arms he could not break free from quickly encircled him, pinning his arms, useless, at his side, and pulling him away from Daisuke. As he watched, the same happened to his rival—the burly Kaseda-sensei had the lithe little kaitou's arms trapped, unable to escape. This, however, did not stop either boy from struggling futilely to get back to their battle.

"Let—me—"

"_Boys_!" a sharp voice slit the air, and Satoshi distantly registered that whichever teacher was holding him had spoken the warning, but he paid no attention.

He ground his teeth and clenched his fists all the same, as if ready for any attack his opponent might make, even while they were restrained like this, but Daisuke just glared, red eyes tearing up—not so much with pain or sadness, as utter fury…eyes Satoshi had never seen the boy wear.

"I hate you! I hate you, Hikari Satoshi!" he shouted, while on the outskirts students exchanged bewildered looks, pondering the strange family name Daisuke had used to address "Hiwatari-kun". "I hate you for what he's done to you!" He struggled against the arms that held him fast, continuing to chant his mantra "I hate you!" without pause to even realize the reactions he was receiving.

"Done to _me_? Like you could even understand it!" He spit on the ground at Daisuke's thrashing feet. "You don't know _anything_ Niwa!" Pairs of eyes shot over to Satoshi, judging his response, "You, in your sheltered little life have _no idea_ what it is to live like this!" His breath hitched. "Neither of you understand! Not you—and not Da—"

Daisuke's head shot up, as his face paled and his breath became short and quick, and Satoshi barely caught himself before he blurted out more than should have been said in front of others. It seemed even in this emotional state, the Hikari boy still had sense enough to know what should and should not be said in front of outsiders.

Had they been alone, the argument that would have ensued would have most likely been loud and colorful, but there was only so much in which they could indulge in a schoolyard full of people who had no idea of the feud between the two families.

Shaking in rage himself, Satoshi gathered his strength and roughly broke free from the teacher's grip, startling the man at the unusual show of strength from a boy who looked as if he wasn't getting quite enough to eat. He stood in place for a moment, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and when it became apparent he wasn't going to leap back into the fray, Kaseda-sensei released Daisuke as well.

"I'm going home," Satoshi announced roughly, spinning around and stomping off to the front gate, readjusting his shirt collar. One teacher moved to stop him, but gave up quickly after garnering a cold glare.

After he'd advanced a few yards, though, he stopped and turned to look over his shoulder, earning an equally harsh stare from the Niwa boy. Narrowing his eyes he raised his right hand, as if about to deliver another punch, and announced in a voice Daisuke had never heard him use, "_Death to the Niwas_!"

Daisuke almost did a double-take; it was…a ritualistic ultimatum of sorts—one not unexpected of a Hikari to issue to a rival Niwa, but…this was Hiwatari-kun! The boy who would have sooner died than submit to his fate as Krad's host! He—he…he merited a response, that was for certain.

Death? No, that would have come as a blessing to the blue-haired boy…death was too kind a release for "Hiwatari-kun" now…He had made it clear by allowing Krad to try and kill Dark that he had no more qualms with letting Daisuke die, that the old Satoshi was dead…So, for the new one…

Daisuke's demeanor darkened, and he too raised his fist and returned, "And misery…to the Hikaris."

Satoshi's eyes widened slightly, but this was the only sign he had even dignified the response by hearing it—and he tore out of the schoolyard at a run, not even caring that it was only lunch, and there was still half the day to go.

"Niwa-kun, I think…you should go home as well," one of the female teachers urged him, lips pursed in a thin line—really, he was the last student she would have ever suspected of something like this, and with _Hiwatari-kun_ of all people! Daisuke nodded mutely, gathered his things from a bench he'd left them on, and exited through a side gate, head throbbing painfully.

'_I think_…_that talk could've gone a little better_…_'_

"Shut up, Dark…"


	5. In Sickness and In Health

_Galatea_

_Fifth Movement: In Sickness and In Health_

"We never forgive those who make us blush."

_Jean-François De La Harpe_

* * *

It was still early enough in the day when Daisuke trudged through the front door and into the living room that Emiko hadn't had time to set up his training gauntlet. For the first time in a long while he was able to escape up to his room without any life-threatening devices being deployed against him.

Upon hearing the front door open and shut, and knowing that Kosuke was already here and that her father and Towa weren't due back for another hour or so at least, Emiko frowned at the clock on the kitchen wall and picked up a towel to dry her dishpan hands. She stuck her head into the living room and glanced about, just in time to catch Daisuke starting up the steps.

"Dai-chan?" she called after him, hands on her hips, "Just what are you doing home so early?" He ignored her query, continuing on up the steps in a somber manner. "Wai—Niwa Daisuke! Don't ignore me, young man!" She heard another door slam at the top of the stairs, and silently seethed. What was that boy's problem today?

He and Dark had both been acting strange ever since they'd come back from their job the night before. The thief, usually hard-pressed for any sort of challenge when he went out, had come home dragging his feet and looking quite the worse for wear—even With seemed worn out. When she'd pressed him for details as to his physical state, he'd waved her off with a muffled, "Talk…morning…sleep…" and almost immediately released his hold on his Tamer's body, leaving him to collapse in the middle of the living room. Emiko had just smiled, proud of her son and Dark as usual, and carried him up to his bed, tucking him in with a soft, "_Night, Dai-chan_…" Then this morning, because he'd been so tired, she didn't wake him up at his usual time, instead letting him get a few minutes of extra sleep, resulting in the poor boy being late. Ah well, she'd tried to help.

So what was the meaning of this behavior of his? Just because he'd had a hard night, it didn't give him any reason to be so moody! She tossed the dishtowel back onto the counter by the sink and stomped off to find her husband.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK._

The worried parents were granted no reply from inside their son's room, and Kosuke and Emiko exchanged unsettled glances. "Dai-chan?" she tried again, to no avail, and it was at this point that Kosuke slowly turned the handle and eased the door open a bit, poking his head inside, with his wife hovering just behind him shooing him forward.

"Go _away_, Mom…" a muffled voice begged, and two gazes were drawn over to the small couch near the window, upon which their son was sprawled out, face buried in a pillow. "I don't wanna talk right now…I've got a headache…"

Emiko, as she was wont to do, pursed her lips in a thin line and crinkled her eyebrows in indignation. Kosuke, as _he_ was wont to do, simply regarded his son in silence and tried to make what he could of the uncharacteristic behavior. It wasn't like him to be so abrupt with Emiko—even when she meddled more than her son felt was necessary in his life. He'd always borne her prodding with grace, but today was a completely different story.

Perhaps something had happened with Riku—Daisuke _was_ still working out how to juggle his social life and family curse; these things happened. Kids got into petty squabbles with each other, and within a day or so they were friends again. Daisuke was that kind of boy, one whom it was impossible to stay mad at for more than a few hours.

"Niwa Daisuke, look at me, young man. What's wrong with you?" No response. "Home hours early from school, and you storm up to your room without even a 'Hello! I'm home!' for your mother!" Her tone was waxing more motherly and worried than mad as she'd meant it to be, and this finally roused the boy to answer.

Pulling the pillow away, he looked up at her with big red eyes, and she gave a soft gasp when she took in his face: His hair was a disheveled mess, there was dirt on his forehead and cheeks, and a thin line of dried blood snaked its way down to his chin from one corner of his mouth. When he noticed her reaction, he hastily looked away and began fiddling with the edging on the pillow.

She quickly stepped over to him, squatting down and smoothing back his hair to survey the damage. "What…is the meaning of _this_?" He jerked away from her touch as if he'd been shocked. "Yes I imagine it _does_ hurt—now answer me!"

"…I got into a fight at school…I think I'm suspended for a week…I didn't stick around to hear my punishment…"

Eyes widening in absolute shock, Emiko had to steady herself as she stood back up, Kosuke dashing over to help here, "You…you _WHAT_?!" She didn't wait for a response, and launched into a flood of questions, "A _FIGHT_? Today?! _WHY_?! What has gotten into you? You could have _hurt_ your opponent!"

At this last comment, Daisuke's head snapped back over to look at his mother, confusion evident in his features—it was just like her to say something like that.

"All that training we've been giving you was _not_ for some—some schoolyard tussle so you could show off! You might have—"

"I wasn't showing off!" he shot back, eyes narrowed.

Emiko regarded this for a moment, "…So you _lost_?!" Daisuke wanted to bang his head against something very hard at that moment, but then remembered how much it was aching already and decided against it.

"No, I _didn't_ lose." Instead of relaxing his mother, this only served to make her frown even more. "I mean—it didn't get that far. Some teachers stopped us. And he wasn't hurt, at least…at least not any more than I am…" At this point, he seemed to regain his interest in the pillow edging and began picking at it again, not looking up at the angry dark eyes glaring down at him.

"Then you must not have put up much of a fight! I've done studies on all your classmates, you realize—and not one of them would come even close to being able to best you in a fight." Was his mother always this insane, or did it just show in situations where family pride was on the line? "Except for maybe that _Hikari_ bo—"

She stopped herself in the middle of her sentence and brought a hand up to her mouth. "…Oh…you _didn't_, Daisuke…please tell me you didn't…" Her son's response was to bury his head in the pillow again. "…You mean to say you fought…in _public_…our three-hundred-year underground feud?! Niwa Daisuke, have we not taught you better than that?!"

"But—he was—!"

She held up a hand, "I don't want to hear it! I can't imagine what might possible encourage you to _stoop_ to his level!"

Growing defensive, Daisuke shot back, "It was as much his fault as it was mine! It takes two people to have a fight, you know!"

This comment, though, only served to set his mother on a new line of attack—one now directed at Satoshi, "I _knew_ we should have separated you two more! I always felt it was a mistake not pulling you out when I saw his name on the class roster this year; you would've done so well without distractions at that private school on the other side of town." She clenched her hands into little fists, "Oh, I just knew he'd make a move on you one of these days! That clan never fights fairly!"

Daisuke frowned, conflicted emotions swirling inside his mind. Half of him wanted to join in ranting with his mother—he _was_ still upset with Hiwatari-kun—yet the other half desperately wanted to set the record straight, revealing their earlier bet and the fact that, after the previous week, there was very little chance Satoshi would be "making a move" on him.

"I've a good mind to pull you out right now since this has happened! Apparently he's gotten over whatever moral issues he'd had with attacking you at school—who knows what he could try next! They've never been big on keeping our feud a secret, even setting up that Academy of theirs in the north just so they could bring others to _their_ side. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you sat down in your chair Monday morning and—"

"Mom, I got _suspended_. I'm not going Monday—one of the teachers said the principal would call and confirm later this afternoon…"

As if suddenly remembering that there was still the matter of punishment awaiting her son, Emiko shot off on a new tangent. "And _suspended_! I can't believe that! Oh you can rest assured there'll be a nice new training regimen waiting for you tonight—I want all your previous times cut by half _at least_! That way next time, you'll either think twice before raising your fist at school, or finish soon enough that you won't get caught!" She blinked a few times, "…But, by the way…what exactly _did_ he do to you to get you so riled up?"

The boy had _never_ uttered a cross word about his rival before, no matter how much Emiko prodded him to be wary of the Hikari child. He would always laugh and brush it off, reminding her that "Hiwatari-kun" was his _friend_, that he'd never hurt him intentionally. Well this fight _certainly_ seemed to her like that brat had been trying to hurt her baby—so _what_ could have set it off?

Daisuke, it seemed, was loath to reveal this. "…I'd rather not talk about it…" The last thing he needed was his mother worrying even more about his and Dark's job. If she knew that Hiwatari-kun was going to be letting Krad out _all_ the time now, she'd make him take far too many precautions—and truthfully, he just didn't care about that right now. Dark had kept him safe before; he fully trusted his partner to continue the same way.

"This _isn't_ something that's open for discussion! Now, given that you've never spoken a cross word about this boy before, I'd wager it was something quite important, so fess up! Let's have it! What possessed you to bring to the surface our secr—"

"Emiko-san," Kosuke interrupted softly, laying a hand on her shoulder, and she frowned as she turned to him, "Why don't…why don't I talk to him for a few, alright?" His wife clearly objected to this, but before she could voice her displeasure, he jumped back in with a request, "I'm getting a craving for some warm tea—would you mind?" Frown deepening, she finally gave in and retreated, leaving the two men alone.

After he heard the door shut, Daisuke looked up from his pillow into his father's eyes, and followed him with hiss gaze as the man came and took a seat on the couch next to him.

A moment passed in silence, and Kosuke felt his son was waiting for him to start the conversation—he needed a less…noisy approach, it seemed. "So…how is he doing?" Daisuke's eyebrows pulled together in confusion as to just who "he" was. "Hiwatari Satoshi-kun, I mean. Aside from…your fight today, has he been doing well?"

Daisuke frowned at this, but not like he'd frowned when Emiko had questioned him—he looked like a small child, pouting about something not going his way, "…Looks as if he's doing just fine to me." He clutched the pillow close and settled his head on it. "Getting along quite nicely with his _curse_…"

Kosuke's eyes widened a bit, and he settled back into the cushions, arms crossed over his chest and a knowing smile playing on his lips. So _that's_ what this was all about. "I see…so, I take it Satoshi-kun has…not been fighting his curse as much lately?" Though he still understood precious little of the nature of the Hikari boy and his curse, he understood quite well that the child didn't share the same relationship his own son and curse did. When Daisuke gave him no positive or negative response, he tested, "…This wouldn't have anything to do with last night's job, now would it?"

"N-no!" came the swift reply, and Daisuke flushed, embarrassed at being caught, "Well…yeah…it has _everything_ to do with it, actually…"

"How so?" It was apparent it was going to take a bit more nudging. "Come on, Daisuke…if you don't talk about it, how can I hel—"

"Do you have any _idea_ what happened last night, Dad?" the boy erupted, "Do you know what he did? He let _KRAD _out on _US_! On Dark—on _me_! On _ME_!" He tossed the pillow away and jumped to his feet, pacing angrily. "He didn't even fight it! Just let him out to do whatever he wanted—which of course meant chasing Dark around and attacking us at every opportunity!" He stopped pacing and stared at his father, eyes quivering in anger. "And you know what? When I went to talk to him about it this morning, do you _know_ what he said to me?

"That he was _sorry_ if I got hurt, but that it was Dark's fault and not his! That he couldn't order Dark to stop stealing, so I couldn't order Krad to stop trying to kill me! And that—that—" He took a deep breath, "That every time Dark goes out on a job, he was going to let Krad be there to try and stop him—_Every_._ Single_. _Time_."

Kosuke let his son calm down, rage petering out in the silence, before calmly asking, "…So the fact that Satoshi-kun seems to be getting along with his curse now worries you, is that it?"

Daisuke shook his head, "Dad, he's not _getting along_ with that monster. He's being—tricked, or led on, or _something_ that I know is a bad idea! And of course I'm worried, they're trying to _kill_ me!" He conveniently left out the fact that Satoshi had promised that he would not allow Krad to kill him as per their agreement. The fact remained that there was pain involved and Satoshi didn't intend to stop it.

"Well…what about Dark? Surely he's not having problems with this is he? Granted, he did look a bit worn out last night, but then—it's been a while since he's seriously fought Krad this incarnation. They've been fighting for three hundred years…it's something he's well used to by now, I'd imagine." He took a closer look at his son and prodded, "…There isn't anything else, is there?"

Instinctively looking away, Daisuke began rubbing his arm distractedly, "Well, I just…I wouldn't have expected _him_ to…to do something like this…to me…"

"And why not?" the father queried, "You _are_ a Niwa, after all, like it or not. You're who he's been taught he's _supposed_ to fight. Just because—"

"I _know_ I'm who he's supposed to fight!" Daisuke was on the defensive again, and fisted his hands at his sides, "But he's the one who told me he loved me!"

There was a long pause that filled the room for a good full minute as Daisuke mentally kicked himself for the slip. Kosuke was frozen in place, eyes wide, as his son mumbled incoherently, "I—I mean…he…he just…he…_crap_…"

Slowly regaining his faculties of speech, Kosuke questioned, "Daisuke…Satoshi-kun _really_…" His son returned him a slow nod, and he sighed in frustration. "…When did this happen?"

"Almost two weeks ago…the same day I asked Riku-san to go with me to the annual art show downtown…I ran up to him and told him about it, and he…"

_FLASHBACK_

"Ah, sorry—you probably aren't really interested in hearing something like that." The redhead scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and gave a soft laugh, "I didn't mean to bother you, Hiwatari-kun. I just really wanted to tell someone, and you were the only one who'd really understand how much it meant to me." He let his hand fall away and stared long and hard at the boy across from him, face softening into a genuine smile. "Thank you, Hiwatari-kun…you always understand what it means to me…you always understand me…" He spared a glance down at his watch and gave a little yelp. "Ah! Mom's gonna kill me if I'm late again!" Giving Satoshi a little wink, he waved goodbye and turned on his heel to dash out the school gate.

But before he could take a step away, a hand reached out to grab his, and a mangled sentence reached his ears in a short, breathless whisper, "…Ilikeyou."

Daisuke's smile fell away, and his eyebrows creased in confusion, not quite sure he'd heard correctly. "Hiwa…tari-kun…?"

Satoshi quickly dropped the hand he'd been holding onto and began rubbing his own together in a nervous habit. "I…I like you, Niwa Daisuke." A pause, "I think…I might love you." Something twitched behind his eye, and he reaffirmed, "I love you. I love you, Niwa."

Breath coming out in short pants, Daisuke struggled to quench the dryness that had blossomed in his mouth like raw cotton. Why…why…_why_ was Hiwatari-kun telling him this? Weren't they supposed to hate each other? Weren't they supposed to fight each other? Daisuke _had_ wanted to be friends, but Hiwatari-kun had always…Hiwatari-kun had _never_…

"I like seeing your smile." This somehow jolted the redhead from his shock, and forced him to focus on the task at hand rather than retreating into his mind where he might have been able to make some sense of the situation. It dawned on him that from his silence, Satoshi had assumed Daisuke required proof of the confessed love, and was obliging him. "It's…very warm, and friendly…and I don't get much of that usually. You make me feel like…like I can actually change something in my life…when you smile. I love…that you think I can change…when even I have trouble believing that myself."

Daisuke noted distantly that not once had Satoshi smiled throughout the whole confession, and then realized that this was probably because he was having to concentrate quite a lot on keeping his mental defenses up…on keeping Krad _in_.

Wait, that was…that was why…_He'd_ changed into Dark because of his feelings for Risa, so had Hiwatari-kun changed…because of…

His stomach gave a sullen lurch, and he felt like he was about to fall down. "…N-Niwa…?" came a worried voice, and bit of emotion managed to leak into the Hikari boy's eyes.

Steadying himself, Daisuke took a deep breath, but couldn't bring himself to meet the same gaze that was looking upon him with such hope and fear and anticipation. Gods, it hurt to do this…how had Harada-san managed it?

"I'm…I'm sorry Hiwatari-kun, but I…I do like you!" He looked up, face betraying the turmoil tearing him up inside, "I do like you…_but_…not like that…not that way…not the way you like me…I like Riku-san…and I just can't hurt her like that…I'm—sorry!" With a burst of kaitou speed, he darted away through the school gate, his sneakers slapping loudly on the concrete sidewalk.

And Hiwatari Satoshi trudged over to a bench beneath a tree and sat. And sat.

_END FLASHBACK _

Well, it was now apparent to Kosuke that this situation between the Niwa and Hikari clans had just developed a whole new layer of problems. Satoshi-kun obviously had more to worry about than simply thwarting Dark or keeping Krad from killing anyone—after all, he _was_ a fourteen-year-old boy. If Daisuke could have problems in his love life and still juggle a night job as a phantom thief, what was stopping Satoshi from doing the same thing?

"So…you're thinking that, perhaps…Satoshi-kun is doing this…to get back at you for rejecting him…"

Daisuke was horrified that his father would think such a thing of him, "Wha—no! No, I'd never think he'd stoop to—"

"Maybe not intentionally," Kosuke pacified, "But…I can see that there's more than your simply not trusting Krad—not that that isn't a factor as well." Daisuke closed his mouth, as he'd meant to argue just that. "You think that…just because he said that, he's supposed to automatically alter how he's treated you all this time…when nothing came of it in the first place except to make your relationship all the more awkward. Life doesn't work like that, Daisuke, I'm sorry. You can love someone…and still hurt them."

"But he—he's doing it on purpose!"

"He's tired of _fighting_ it, Daisuke—who knows, maybe he's held Krad back all this time out of respect for _you_…and now that everything's different, he doesn't have the motivation to anymore. Maybe he did actually become a bit apathetic, seeing nothing could come of it, knowing he could never gain your favor. He's only human, son. I mean, if you had the kind of relationship with Dark like he has with Krad…wouldn't you get tired too?" Daisuke paused to consider this a moment.

"But," the father continued, "That doesn't mean he hates you, or he wants you to suffer. He's suffered enough already to know it isn't pleasant. He needs…_help_, Daisuke. Not a punch in the gut to bring him back to his senses. He needs someone there to talk to."

"I _tried_ talking," Daisuke argued, then pointed to his swollen lip, "And I got _this_." He was pouting, still holding his ground, but deep down he knew his father was right, and this made it all the worse.

"Listen—there's really nothing you can do about Satoshi-kun. It's his body, his life…his decision on what to do with them. We can only be there to support him in whatever he chooses to do." He stood and placed his hand on his son's shoulder, "You need to apologize the next time you see him."

Daisuke frowned but nodded anyway, and Kosuke stepped past him and out the door.

"Oh, and one more thing," he called back, poking his head back inside, and Daisuke turned to him, "I don't know what else your mother's got planned, but as for me—you can start your punishment off by dusting and polishing all the works in the basement." He gave his son a wink and popped out the door.

Slipping back onto his couch with a moan, Daisuke covered his eyes and muttered, "Stupid Niwa clan…stupid Dark and Krad…stupid Hiwatari-kun…stupid _me_…"

* * *

"Stupid Hikari clan…stupid Dark and Krad…stupid Niwa…stupid _me_…" It was only now, behind the safety of thick walls and simulated solitude, that Satoshi realized how utterly foolish his actions had been. He'd been completely blinded by his irritation at Niwa's meddling, so much that he'd not even cared that their daytime feud had had _quite_ an audience.

And what was more—suspended for a week! One of the teachers, Kaseda-sensei, had run after him as he left the school grounds and firmly reminded him that fighting was strictly dealt with at Azumano No. 2, and that he would be contacted that evening regarding disciplinary action. Satoshi had frowned, but given the matter no further thought—until now.

Unemployed, by choice—now unengaged during the day as well, by rash action. He cursed softly to himself and sank onto his living room couch, closing his eyes and sighing loudly. It seemed no matter how he tried to hide his emotions, he was from far too emotional a stock to keep them from leaking out when he could least help it. Niwa had an annoying ability to demolish every carefully erected barrier he had to contain his emotions, resulting in events like the earlier fight.

Krad merely regarded the whole affair silently—his Tamer was doing a perfectly good job berating himself, so the blonde saw no need to jump in with his own idle comments. And at the rate the boy was going, he didn't appear to be tiring of kicking himself any time soon.

Instead, he directed his thoughts inward, back to the emotions he'd sensed earlier. All through that fight, Satoshi had been in his usual "battle mode," but there was something else laced in his host's responses to the Niwa boy's both physical and mental attacks, something hidden, that perhaps Satoshi himself wasn't even aware of.

"_No_…_there's something more_…_He's gotten to you_…_gotten his hooks in you, he's—"_

_"Shut up! You shut up about him!"_

Yes…there it was…that's where he'd sensed it…and oh how utterly _delicious_ it had been, too. That wasn't the Satoshi he'd known for so many years, not the Satoshi who forever kept from his curse the grace of any emotional response save hatred. This was a desperate, breathy pseudo-plea, teetering precariously between a threat and a supplication. His host didn't ask, he simply took that which he wanted, or else dealt without, except for the rare occasion when something was so important to him that…

"…_I'm going to ask you something, and I—I want you to answer me. Honestly_._"_

There it was again. That tremor that echoed in his Tamer's bones and resonated in Krad's being as well, that delightful shuddering that spanned the Astral and physical planes…_That_ was what he lived to feel…and what he wouldn't _give_ to feel it again. The shiver his precious host gave off when he was cornered, vulnerable, all but _begging_…

Yes, it was going to be a _very_ long week.

* * *

The first three days of his suspension passed in utter boredom for the Hikari boy, and he now found no excuse to avoid Saehara's favor any longer. The pages and pages of potential candidates' resumes begged to be perused, and at this point he was glad for some distraction from the coma-like state he'd slipped into after the fight with Niwa.

Satoshi coughed loudly for the fourth time in the past few minutes, leaning over his papers and rubbing his chest, with his eyes shut tight and nearly leaking tears as he heaved—an action, for once, _not_ brought about by his curse clamoring to be released. He slumped back in his seat on the couch with eyes half-lidded with fatigue, and squinted as he stared at the laptop monitor on the coffee table to his left, reaching over to scroll through pages of data.

'_Satoshi-sama_…_'_ Krad's voice rang clear and light inside his head, but was tainted with a tone of chiding, like an adult to a small child disobeying him, and the image that materialized before him frowned. Gritting his teeth, Satoshi tried his best to block the sound, _'Are you going to keep doing this to yourself? It's not—'_

"Just—_shut up_. You're making my head hurt even more…" he growled, shaking his head to clear his mind. "As if you even care whether I'm sick or not—it's _my_ body before it's yours, I'll treat it how I want." There was a short pause, and Krad moved to object again, but the boy just narrowed his eyes fiercely and snapped, "Go _away_! I'm trying to work here!"

Krad jerked back abruptly at the outburst as if he'd been shocked, though by now he was well used to his host's emotional states—particularly when he was clearly not in prime condition. In the wake of his recent retirement, he'd had to take on the full load of his paperwork for being let go from the police force since his father wasn't helping in the least. He now assumed almost full personal responsibility over his own affairs, and was intent on finding some loophole somewhere to give him legal right to dismiss himself. Saehara had offered to have a professional take care of the details, urging him to rest from the excitement, but to no avail. In any case, it served a suitable distraction.

Still, between tying things up with the police, the Niwas, and Dark, pulling a particularly late night the day before after being called back down to the station for more paperwork, he was mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. His head was throbbing painfully—something Krad knew well, as he could feel it echoing in his own consciousness—the boy's hand was _still_ untreated, and his curse could sense the feverish heat Satoshi was giving off. In short, the Hikari host was quite ill, and was seemingly unwilling to do anything about it.

Well, desperate diseases require desperate remedies.

Krad backed off of his persuading, and nodded knowingly to himself, a tiny smile gracing his features as he faded from view. Satoshi barely looked up, and allowed himself to release a tentative breath, glad to finally be rid of the annoyance of having his curse watching him all the time and exhorting him to do something about his condition. It seemed, though, that he'd celebrated a bit too soon.

It wasn't a moment later that his head felt as if it was being hacked open from the inside, and he could feel the familiar tendrils of "Krad"-ness working their way into his mind, shoving Satoshi's own consciousness from control with hardly any effort whatsoever. So weak was the Hikari boy, though he refused to admit it, that he didn't even have the capabilities to properly fend off the attack and unwillingly shifted into the lanky build of his curse.

'_Damn you_…_'_ a growl reverberated inside his mind in response to Krad's forceful overtaking of the body, and a simple smirk was the reply. _'Couldn't you just let me take care of myself—'_

"I would be only _too_ happy to do that, Satoshi-sama—" Krad interrupted in a lazy drawl, "—if you _would_ take care of yourself. As it is—" He glanced down now at his hand and clenched it, nearly reopening the wound which had only just started to scar over from the few nights before, "It looks as if only _I_ can be trusted with caring for our body."

'_Let me back, NOW! Krad—I swear if you—' _

"You think I came out for _him_?" He laughed lightly, soft tenor ringing through the living room, "Satoshi-sama, you _wound_ me, truly. After all—what good is a dead host? I can't exactly carry out Hikari duty without a body, now can I? Those Niwas, for once, are not my top priority…I will be caring for you today—no fighting. On my honor as a Hikari."

Satoshi was silent for a moment—no doubt from his mental jaw being dropped in shock. _'You? Honor? Hardly! I have no reason to trust—'_

"Yes, you have _no_ reason—so why don't you be a good little boy and let me _give_ you a reason to trust me, Satoshi-sama. I am Krad of the Hikari—I _always_ keep my word…whether it's swearing to kill Dark or swearing to do nothing at all…

"_Always_, Satoshi-sama."

Another pause, and the reply came slowly, cold and measured. _'_…_I will kill you some day_…_this I swear_…_and I keep my promises as well_…_'_

Krad sighed low and pushed himself up off the couch, stretching his limbs, "Yes, yes…I'm sure you will…but not today. Today you are weak and I am taking this body so that you won't harm yourself any more than you already have. Now—_sleep_." Before the boy could even ponder the implications of that single order, Krad muttered an ancient slumber spell, and Satoshi's objections quickly faded as his host slipped into the bliss of unconsciousness.

"Much better—now, the closet…" Krad wandered back through the hall into the bedroom and turned to the large closet to his left. "What _does_ Satoshi-sama wear on days when he doesn't go to that dreary school of his…?"

After a moment of rummaging through the boy's haphazardly organized closet, he finally pulled out something halfway decent—having seen his host wear the outfit before, Krad trusted it wouldn't appear all that odd for him to go out in.

Hastily discarding the nightclothes Satoshi had lounged around in for most of the day, the blonde slipped into a pair of dark pleated slacks and button-up shirt. It was quite fortunate the boy ironed all his things before hanging them in his closet, since Krad with an iron would no doubt have been a rather ugly sight as he struggled to figure out the contraption.

Turning to eye himself in Satoshi's full-length mirror, he nodded approvingly, and ran an intense gaze over his new threads, starting at his long, lustrous golden locks and running down to his socked feet. One of the perks of being a demi-immortal, he never had to indulge in those dreadful, time-consuming _baths_ his hosts periodically took. Eying his hair now, though, he noted it was almost impossible to avoid the locks getting dirty or tangled when he went out. Fishing around inside Satoshi's desk near the bed, he finally found a band to keep it out of the way, and quickly snapped his hair up to half its former length—still a sight to see.

Now…where to? He plopped down onto the mattress to think a moment and pondered where one might go to get a heal-all for himself and his host. Apothecaries were long gone…what did humans use nowadays? Pharmacies, weren't they? He sifted through his mind to try and remember if there was anything like that near the apartment.

Deciding he'd simply stroll around until he found it—it _was_ a beautiful day, after all, perfect for taking a walk in a stolen body—he pocketed the wallet he knew his host kept his payment methods in and slipped into a pair of slightly-small shoes at the genkan, making a mental note to pick up a pair for himself should he try this again.

…What was he _thinking_? He could _make_ himself a pair from Astral.

After a mental smack he was sure Satoshi would have enjoyed giving him, he stepped out the front door again, locked it with the boy's key, and padded down the plushly carpeted hallway to the elevators.

A few moments later and he was at the front doors to the apartment complex, and faced with a familiar man staring at him strangely. He couldn't place the face at first, and then realized it was his Tamer's landlord when the man spoke.

"…Are you…lost, sir?" the man asked hesitantly, and Krad thought about this for a moment before deciding that he really didn't have to answer any of this man's questions, and could instead use him to answer his own.

"Actually I am," Krad confessed, "Could you direct me to the nearest pharmaceutical establishment? Or apothecary? Whichever your…prefecture…keeps in employ?"

The shorter man blinked a few times in reply, obviously off-put by the unusual answer to his question. "Aah…I believe there's a drug store around the corner, next to the old antique pawn-shop, can't miss it…But, why were you—"

"Thank you," the blonde answered curtly, and pushed out the door, leaving the landlord with his mouth opening and closing as if he'd meant to ask another question.

Strolling down the sidewalk towards the corner a block away, Krad couldn't help but be slightly awed by the sights: he'd _never_ come out into the city during the day—he'd never _needed_ to. His entire existence revolved around the attempted homicide of the Niwa line and that curse of theirs—who, as his name implied, only appeared after sunset. Sure, he'd _seen_ daylight before, he wasn't some heathen who stayed cooped up inside all day; but before it had all the time been through hosts' eyes, and even then it had always seemed to sting his vision, far too bright too handle.

But right now…it was actually…pleasant. Krad found himself actually enjoying the way the cool breeze wafting against him perfectly balanced out the rays of the noon sun streaming down on his exposed flesh. It was quite mysterious that something so simple could be so pleasing. But seasons, like this winter, in the human plane had always fascinated him, how one day it could be snowing and the next just like today—nippy, but not so much that he felt too uncomfortable without a jacket.

Having always lived in the atmosphere he had, trapped in the confines of the Hikari clan, he didn't notice—or rather, haughtily ignored—the strange looks he was receiving as he strolled down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets, and golden eyes focused right ahead of him. He was already eying the distant "Pharmacy" sign at the corner, an arrow pointing to the right. On all sides, people would catch sight of him, slow, and eventually stop dead in their tracks to stare for a moment before shaking their heads and quickly moving on. No doubt they were wondering at the presence of an obvious foreigner in the midst of the old downtown area of their prefecture.

Turning the corner at the intersection, he quickened his pace a bit, aware that he was on a time schedule in this body, and reached out a hand to grab the door to the pharmacy, heaving it open. A bell tinkled lightly over his head as he stepped over the threshold and entered the building, greeted by a blast of cool air to combat the unusually warm weather outside despite the late winter season.

"One moment! I'll be right with you!" a perky voice called out, seemingly from nowhere, and Krad halted in his tracks to scan his new surroundings. Soon, the owner of the voice stepped out from behind a stack of boxes to welcome him to the store—a small, slim woman with short-cropped dark hair and equally dark eyes. She appeared quite sure of herself at first, but as soon as she caught sight of the blonde, her attitude abruptly shifted, sending a red flush crawling over her features and adding a quaver to her voice.

"Ah—we-welcome to our pharmaceutical supply shop, sir! Can I help you in your search? Looking for something specific to remedy today?" She peered up hopefully, but he didn't even look her in the eye, instead turning his head from side to side, haphazardly scanning the shelves even though he didn't really know what he was looking for in the first place.

"Perhaps…" he conceded, not noticing the joy radiating from her eyes, "I'm looking for something to help my…a friend…He's quite sick, you see, and I need something to make him…better." A simple statement of his aims, but it seemed to be enough to burst the poor girl's bubble, whose face fell slightly.

'_He?'_ she cursed mentally, _'_…_Damn_…_all the good ones are either taken or gay_…_'_ Pouting a bit, she nonetheless continued with her questioning and beckoned Krad to follow her. "…'Something to make him better', you say?" He nodded curtly. "Well—what're his symptoms?"

"Symp…toms?"

"What's wrong with him?" she clarified, as if speaking to a small child. "Is he hot, cold, feverish, chilled, coughing, what?"

'_Attractive yes, and cold—quite right. Feverishly flushed, chilled to the touch_…_'_ he fought a devilish grin, _'Oh, all of the above_…_'_ But as he couldn't exactly reply as such, he instead spoke, "He has what feels to be a high fever, and an incessant cough—for two days at least, now…and oh yes, a headache." He shuddered—that was the one thing he was _positive_ of, for the headache has spread by now into his own being, and throbbed painfully in perfect sadistic rhythm to the twinging in his right palm.

"Hmm…a headache too, you say?" She turned from him and began wandering down one of the aisles, brows furrowed as she scanned the shelves. "And coughing…fever…_ah_!" Hand shooting out, she grabbed a blue box on a lower shelf and turned it over, reading its label, then nodded approvingly. "Yeah—this should do the trick, sir!" She pushed the box towards him, a bright smile on her face, and he reached out to take it from her, when she caught sight of his palm and gasped, "Y—your hand!"

On instinct, he snatched it back and let go of the box, cradling it with his other, but the girl simply put the item back on the shelf and settled her hands on her hips, making a clucking sound of disapproval. "No no no…that nasty gash won't do—wait right here, I'll get you something that'll help it heal faster!" Without giving him a chance to object, she turned and dashed to the back of the store into a side room—he'd _wanted_ to say something to stop her, but that strange girl wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise! Humans were…such an interesting species. To get excited over the smallest of things!

A moment later she reappeared in front of him with a roll of bandages in one hand and antibacterial cream in the other, then commenced gently rubbing the gel over the cut, binding it with fresh bandages and tying it so it wouldn't come undone easily.

Guiding him, now, to the front desk, she rang up the cold medicine, letting him keep the medicinal tape and cream on the house, after urging him to keep it bandaged. He nodded and turned to exit the store, when she called back to him from the register, smiling sweetly. "…I hope your friend gets better!"

He merely blinked, mystified, at her, golden eyes wide and for once at a complete loss for a witty comeback—this girl…she was _nothing_ like Satoshi; she didn't require any scathing retort to keep her in line or anything of the sort. Shaking off the feeling, he turned and breezed out the door back into the glaring sunlight, and made his way back home.

He supposed he probably should have thanked the girl for her help—but as this thought only crossed his mind once he was back in the apartment, standing at the kitchen sink with a glass of water and two cold pills, he figured it was too late. Carefully studying the instructions, he popped the capsules into his mouth and sighed, downing them with water. According to the girl, the headache should wear off soon, as well as the fever.

Wandering back into Satoshi's room, he slowly began unbuttoning the now-stifling shirt, peeling it and the pants off and letting his hair hang loose again. He found a new set of sleep clothes and pulled these lighter garments on—though the sun was only now about to set, he knew well enough that humans healed best while asleep, and he couldn't stay in this form much longer anyways; may as well make the best of it. If he was lucky, his sleep spell would keep his Tamer out for another few hours at least.

He rolled back the covers and slid onto the bed, stretching out fully as his head hit the pillow, long golden hair spilling everywhere like a river of fire across the mattress. Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing and concentrated his energies—suffice to say, the reverse voluntary transformation was _not_ something he'd initiated too often before.

Nevertheless, the sensations followed as they were supposed to—he could feel himself withdrawing control, could feel all the senses beginning to dull as the rightful body was reinstated, releasing power over the form to Satoshi, and soon he was as dead to the waking world as he was before. Thankfully, the boy was still asleep. He swiftly shifted to astral form and slid onto the bed, now clad in his familiar white robe, wrapped it around himself, and just sat, watching and waiting.

* * *

Hours later, the moon had finally risen high in the sky, and it was no doubt nearing midnight when the body curled up on the mattress finally stirred from its unnatural Krad-induced slumber. Ears twitched involuntarily when a soft, barely-there melody drifted towards them upon phantom air currents, as if borne by moonbeams. Squinting his eyes in annoyance at being roused, he slowly blinked them open, not moving, merely shifting his gaze to view his surroundings.

Wait…he was in his room…in his bed now—what was the last thing that happened? It was—Krad, yes, that's what it was. He'd transformed into Krad, and had been knocked out by the blonde so he could do…whatever it was he'd wanted to do. Which could have been any number of things, none of those thoughts pleasant.

He now shot straight up in bed and shook his head vigorously, arms posted at his sides—he was alone now, yes, alone except for…his mind, of course. Krad was still there, he could sense the familiar pressure at the back of his head, the pressure of another entity in his consciousness, and knew it was stupid to even call out.

But, it seemed there was no _need_ to call out anyway—for at the other end of the room, standing leaned against one of his great bay windows and staring out at the silver-capped nightscape of Azumano…was Krad. With phantom wings folded idly at rest, and his face turned to the outside, set in an expression of rapture—he was an odd sight indeed.

What was even more odd and had now shocked Satoshi into silence, though, was the fact that the sound…the haunting melody which had roused him from his slumber…was coming from _Krad_…

"…Wh—what was that?" the boy finally managed to speak, swallowing through his dry throat, as the final strains echoed and slowly faded away into the darkness of the apartment.

Not startled in the least by his Tamer's rising, the blonde turned toward him slowly and smirked lightly—an action which somehow put Satoshi more at ease, since this was an expression much more familiar to him than the eerie expression of awe Krad had been wearing a moment before. _'You're supposed to be resting, Satoshi-sama_…_'_

Narrowing his blue eyes at the lack of an answer, the boy replied icily, "I _was_ until you woke me up—and I asked you a question: What _was_ that?" He paused, and collected himself, turning his eyes to the floor as he muttered, "…It sounded…familiar…"

The smirk on Krad's face only widened at this, and he turned to peer back out the window, a Cheshire expression painted on his features. _'Did it, now?_…_How very strange indeed_…_most of my hosts can't remember that far back_…_'_

"What are you talking about?"

He could see only Krad's profile as the image stared up almost longingly at the full fat moon. _'Satoshi-sama_…_did you know?'_

"…Know _what_?" Why did that curse of his always have to be so damn ambiguous?

'_That not once in over three hundred years_…_in any of my nine—no, ten incarnations now_…_'_ He took a single step away from the window, arms limp at his sides,_ 'Not once has a main-line Hikari mother raised her own son to adulthood? Or even been allowed to see him past his second birthday, save on special family-related occasions?'_

Satoshi's face was a blank mask he put in place to hide his emotions from others, and even now it would be difficult for an onlooker to discern his reaction to this statement—but Krad was one from whom it was virtually _impossible_ for him to hide his feelings. Being bound in such a way to one another melded their thoughts and swirled them together until it was nearly hopeless to tell whose was whose. And for this reason, he saw no need to give Krad the pleasure of a reply more thorough than, "Of course I knew that."

He noticed the smirk fade in brilliance. _'_…_Yes_…_they did teach you that much, didn't they?'_

Turning back to Satoshi, he stepped forward, taking long strides to quickly traverse the distance between the window and bed, and the boy unconsciously pulled backwards, away from the swiftly approaching image.

"Wh—what're you—"

Before he could react, a phantom hand made of thought and will reached forward and settled upon his forehead, and though it had no substance, Satoshi was sure he felt it all the same—through some means other than touch which he could not describe. _'Just an image, just an image,'_ he tried to convince himself, but yet it felt both warm and cool at once against his skin, almost like a desert breeze, where he was unsure of whether to sweat or shiver at the sensation.

'_The ache in my head has dwindled, so I can only assume the same has passed to you—and I can't sense much of that fever left, so I may allow that girl down at the pharmacy to live_…_'_

Batting the hand away when he felt it had lingered long enough, he leaned forward, "Ph—pharmacy? You mean—you went _out_?!"

Krad pulled back upright and crossed his arms, glaring down, _'I told you since you didn't seem to place any importance on caring for our body then I'd take matters into my own hands.'_ He nodded pointedly at Satoshi's still-bandaged hand, _'How did you think that happened?' _Only now was the boy's attention drawn back to the wound, for it hadn't been hurting, so he simply hadn't noticed it.

'_She was quite annoying but surprisingly knowledgeable on human ailments—if you get the time I might suggest thanking her in some fashion. Troublesome as the whole ordeal was she did bandage my hand_…_'_

Pulling the bandaged appendage to his chest like a treasured possession, Satoshi lowered his gaze, and muttered something—something Krad didn't catch audibly, but fully understood mentally over the link between curse and host. In jest, to irk him, he queried innocently, prodding, _'What was that, Satoshi-sama?'_

"I _said_—th…thank you…for not trying anything and…for taking care of my body…" He looked up slowly just in time to catch Krad's smirk, which ignited him to bark, "And you don't have to be so smug about it! I'm trying to be civil here—!"

'_Calm, calm_…_'_ the blonde placated, and Satoshi returned to silently fuming. Once silence had returned to their dwelling, Krad deemed it a fit time to retreat back into his mental cloister for the evening. _'The pills you are to take are on your bedside table_…_and fresh bandages are in the washroom_…_'_ His image faded from view, and Satoshi looked up again, almost instinctively searching the room to be sure he was alone before abandoning himself to his thoughts.

'…_You never answered my question, Krad_…_'_

Silence pervaded his mind, but he knew the blonde was still "awake" inside his head, straying in and out of his thoughts, perpetually monitoring him, so it was no surprise when the response didn't come for another few minutes. It was toned down, not sarcastic or biting as would have been expected. _'It was_…_a present_…_' _Satoshi narrowed his eyes, wanting to snap back that this wasn't an answer, but Krad didn't give him a chance, instead rerouting the conversation.

'…_When did you first learn of the Hikari and Niwa family curses, Satoshi-sama? Do you remember that far back—I would venture you do_…_'_

Blinking, but eventually giving in, "Of course," Satoshi spoke aloud, voice barely a whisper, "At the Hikari Academy in the north…for months, years even, they drilled me on nothing but knowledge of all the points of the Hikari clan…including its curse and connection to the Niwas…I was…five…"

A mental smile filled his senses. _'And already the pride and joy of the staff, am I right? You were the best and brightest in the program; but then, surely that was only because_…_'_

"…Because I was to be your host, of course," Satoshi spat out finally, pulling his legs up to his chin and wrapping his arms around them, "I had to be well aware of everything that would happen to me eventually, and they made sure I understood all ours and the Niwas' history."

'_Made you sit in a stuffy classroom for hours, am I right?'_

"It smelled…like dust, and mold, like it hadn't been aired in centuries, and I could hear the rats in the ceiling—all that money and they had _rats_ in the Academy…"

'_And the mantras—those mottos, they made you learn those too, didn't they?'_

Satoshi pulled his legs up to his chest and laughed dryly. "I don't even _want_ to remember those mantras…all day, for weeks on end, until I could repeat them in my sleep, 'Deprive a Niwa of his wings and he cannot steal Hikari things'…"

'_Ahh—I remember one,' _An image filled his mind of Krad closing his eyes and holding up a finger, likening himself to one of the ancient Hikari professors, _'"Be lithe of body, sharp of mind, and a Niwa in your snare you'll find."'_

Shaking his head, Satoshi couldn't help a tiny smile sneaking onto his lips at the imitation, "No no no, that was one of the easier ones—there was the big one, I remember it, '_Kill your heart, and do not hold anything dear to you_…'" His voice trailed into nothingness, and the smile faded quickly, as his eyes widened in realization of the implications of the mantra in present company.

'…"_So that he may not appear"_…_isn't that how it goes?' _Krad laughed roughly, not the normally mocking sound he usually gave off when he ridiculed his host for some futile attempt to keep him at bay. _'You Hikaris always were trying to make up for letting that ritual go awry by devising new ways to save your progeny from me_…_'_

There was no suitable reply for this, but a sudden thought struck the boy here, "…H—how did you remember all that, though? When did _you_ hear the mantras, or know of my education?" A pause, and when he felt his curse was taking to long in responding, he pressed, "Krad? How did…how did you know all that?"

Another pause, but the boy let this one go until he _did_ receive a response. _'Satoshi-sama, this they did not tell you I see_…_some things even the most privileged Hikari cannot be told, apparently.'_

"T—tell me _what_?" His voice was slightly panicked, wondering what new thing he'd learn today that could make his life even worse.

'_Simply this—I have always been with you, Satoshi-sama_…_Always_…' The mental smile was back, _'When you were so very small I was with you even then, and when you grew before my eyes, I took careful notice, each step of the way._

'_I saw you, watched you, cherished you, and I knew_…_I knew, "This one_…_he will be so beautiful one day_…_and he will be mine_…_"_

'_When you cried when you were seven because you did not want to recite your Latin for fear you would fail to accentuate the proper syllables I saw you_…_when you received the call from the administrator at the main house that a man_…_an alumnus by the name of Hiwatari wished to adopt you, I was there as well_…_and I was there all along every time you looked in the mirror and vowed to never let me be released_…_'_

Blue eyes quivered with incredulity. "You…were always…?"

'_Your mother, Hikari Rio_…_such a frail creature, I remember_…_barely had the strength to sing that final song as she let them carry you away. Not a proper mother for my host in the least, I think. All of them in the past have at least tried to make that lullaby mean something, but she_…_well, I will not claim to understand you humans' emotions.'_

"That song…" He now recalled the original subject of their conversation, "…that was the last thing my mother gave me before I was taken away to the school…" He could feel the waves of affirmation reverberating through his skull.

'_Actually_…_it was the last thing she ever sang_… _She was determined that you hear it, even though you were barely a few hours old, while she lay dying in that bed, fleeing this world_…_ Regardless of your circumstances, it is the last thing any Hikari woman gives her son, as it's been for three centuries—I've seen it time and time again as they send my future hosts off to be educated.'_

Satoshi lifted his head slowly and stared forward into the darkness. "And yet you never feel any _pity_ for them, separated from their loved ones…they are merely a means to an end, an incubator, the method of your release."

'_Satoshi-sama_…_' _He slowed as if he was about to reveal something important, _'I did not watch over you for fourteen years simply because you were a method for my release, you know_…_'_

The boy's eyes fell away back to the mattress, where he began to fiddle with a string. "…I know…" What exactly "knowing" entailed, though, remained a mystery, as neither spoke any further on this subject for another few moments.

He lifted his bandaged hand up to his forehead and sighed softly, letting the heat from his lowering fever soothe the twinging in his palm, and reflected aloud, "…I haven't been sick in quite some time…have I…?"

Whether or not the question was directed at Krad or simply rhetorical was debatable, but the blonde jumped at an opportunity to converse with his host again, regardless. _'Years, in fact; the last time was_…_at the Academy. Pneumonia, if I recall_…_'_

Krad's response didn't seem to anger or annoy his host, so he took this as a good sign. "Yeah…" The boy lay back down on the bed, fully stretched out on his back, with his hand still at his head and eyes closed. "I went…to the hospital…the nearest one was hours away, though…I was really…really sick…" His words were losing their edge, and it was obvious he was beginning to fall asleep by now.

'_Yes_…_you frightened all the board members_…_they thought you were going to die_…_'_

"Unn…their precious Tamer…they thought he would die…last of the line…I should have done it just to _spite_ you all…" A soft smile, "And then where would we be? In a better place than now, I'll wager…"

Krad chose not to acknowledge the morose humor. _'Such a tiny child, pale and thin, looking as if a gust of wind could send you into the grave—'_

"As if that was _my_ fault?" a muffled voice came back, broken with a yawn, "Was I supposed to grow up and be this normal child when I was kept indoors with mottos and history and 'You're the last hope for this family' being shoved down my throat all day?"

'_You coped,' _was the succinct reply. Satoshi sniffed, and the blonde continued, _'But then, you seemed to make a habit out of exceeding expectations_…_including those of the doctors assigned to you, convinced you wouldn't make it through the night.'_

"…I don't even remember being that sick, really…I remember it being like this, and then it was morning…" A pause, "I felt…_fine_…just like before…"

'_The doctors had no explanation for the recovery_…_in your last throes that evening, and by morning, healthy as ever_…_'_

Satoshi moved his arm from covering his eyes, and wasn't all that surprised to see Krad sitting on the edge of his bed, hands folded in his lap as he stared into the darkness. Brows furrowing suspiciously, he queried of the blonde, "…You seem to remember an awful lot about that night…"

'_I should,'_ Krad added, as if it was obvious, _'It was I who stayed by your side the whole night and healed you.'_

Now the boy sat up fully, throwing the covers off his chest, "_What_?"

A disinterested golden gaze turned towards him, _'Ought I to have let you die, and faded away as well? Was it wrong of me to care for you?' _No response, Satoshi merely turned his gaze away from his curse's staring, _'I took the pain your young body could not handle upon myself, fed you Astral to strengthen your ability to fend off the disease wracking your body, helped you recover and live through the night_… _It was all I could do, as I couldn't yet manifest and take on the illness fully_…_'_

Leaning forward, settling his weight onto his hands as he shifted down until their faces were at eye level, Krad pinned the boy with a stare and whispered softly, _'_…_Why will you not let me kiss away your pain anymore_…_?'_

Almost reflexively, Satoshi turned his eyes away and muttered, "Because…you _are_ a source of pain now…" When no sarcastic response, or light laughter came, he looked up just in time to catch a look of hurt cross the blonde's features as he tried in vain to disguise it, and eventually gave up and disappeared entirely.

In the dark room, no more conversation was engaged in that night. And Satoshi actually found himself regretting his last comment…he'd actually been enjoying their talk—well, almost.

* * *

_Notes:_ Update, as usual, will follow in one week. Please excuse the strange formatting and muddy transitions of last chapter--the site chose that chapter to decide NOT to include my horizontal rules; I've since gone back and fixed that. Also, please note that in chapter seven, the rating WILL go up to R, for graphic violence (as well as for some sexual themes that will be seen in later chapters). So remember to look forupdates at that pointin the R section since only G to PG-13 are usually displayed. 


	6. Shinigami

_Galatea_

_Sixth Movement: Shinigami (Angel of Death)  
_

"One seeks to make the loved one entirely happy,  
or, if that cannot be, entirely wretched."

_Jean De La Bruyère _

* * *

Satoshi awoke the next morning feeling remarkably better than he'd felt in days. His "vacation" from schoolwork was doing wonders for his mental and physical health—so much so that if he hadn't been worried he'd be dead bored, he'd consider dropping the entire affair altogether. Popping another two of the pills Krad had picked up for him, he swallowed them with obvious effort, not caring to bother with wandering into the kitchen to get something to wash them down with. 

'_Feeling better this morning, I see, Satoshi-sama,'_ his curse remarked lightly, while he fished around in his closet for a change of clothes.

Satoshi's response was a simple frown and a soft, "Hmph," not deigning to grace the blonde with further conversation. Truthfully, though his headache had dissipated and the throbbing in his hand was markedly lowered, he still found himself feeling uneasy, disturbed by their talk the night before.

What had possessed Krad to be so frank with him? Or more so—what had possessed _Satoshi_ to hit up the blonde for conversation in the first place? Well, he argued to himself, the "conversation" had really only been Satoshi asking a simple question and the blonde elaborating on it.

But…there had undeniably been something more to their banter—it had been…Satoshi shuddered, almost _playful_. Almost like…what he would envision Niwa and his Dark engaged in. Reminiscing about days gone by, remembering painfully tedious study sessions, horrifically embarrassing classroom episodes…

He shook his head furiously and tossed a dress-shirt onto the bed, with a pair of slacks soon following. Such thoughts didn't bode well for his sanity.

'_Are you going out?'_ the blonde queried as he slipped into astral form near the foot of the bed, eyeing the set of clothes. _'Should you really be doing such a thing so soon after—'_

"I don't need my curse babysitting me. Shut up and just go back to sleep." He slid the closet door shut with a soft sigh, resting his head against it. "I'll go out if I feel like it."

Frowning, Krad narrowed his gaze and snorted, _'Then I suppose that will teach me to ever do anything nice for my host. So harsh!'_

Satoshi ignored his pouting and gathered the clothes he'd picked out, stepping into the hall towards the bathroom, intent on taking a shower to fully refresh himself after his illness. He paused at the doorjamb. "That reminds me—_never_ do that again."

Golden eyes blinked in confusion. _'_…_Do what?'

* * *

_

The nip in the air was a cool welcome to Satoshi, despite his wind-burned cheeks, and there was a slight spring in his step, the source of which he couldn't trace. By all means, he noted, he should still be quite miserable. After all, he was looking at a week's suspension from school, Niwa most likely would never look at him again, his relationship with his father was on a steady downhill slide, he was unemployed now—though this _had_ been his own choice—why should he _not_ be miserable? And yet here he was, all but _skipping_ down to the precinct to deliver to Saehara his papers on potential candidates the detective had asked him to look over.

The receptionist at the front desk smiled warmly at him and pointed him down the hall towards Saehara's office, though it wasn't as if Satoshi needed this, and he thanked her with a short bow and walked on. A few officers dared double-takes at the sight of the boy until they realized it was only their former commander, and then subsequently ignored him, and a moment later he was knocking on the frosted glass window to the detective's office.

"Come in," a gruff voice announced from inside, "That better be you, Sakaguchi, with those reports from last night's raid on the wharf warehouse—I told you to hand it in at 9 A.M. sharp this morning, and it's almost noon! If you're late with next week's report, I swear I'll can your a—" He spared a glance up and paled, "Oh, Hiwatari-san…s-sorry…I thought you were one of my officers…"

Satoshi offered a rare smile, "I see things haven't much changed since I left last week." Saehara shook his head, and the boy stepped further into the office, shutting the door behind him. "I've come with the papers you asked me to look over." He passed a file across to the detective, "Not a bad batch of candidates, actually."

"None could compare with you, though, Hiwatari-san." At Satoshi's frown, he assured him, "And I'm _not_ just saying that because you were my superior. You just…" His brows crinkled, and he seemed to put a lot of thought into his statement, "…You and Dark…neither one of you were normal, you know…You two just seemed to…_fit_. I'm sure he saw you as a rival he was destined to try and outsmart."

Satoshi suppressed a heaving sigh—Saehara didn't know just how right he was. "Well, that's your job now. Yours and whoever might be my successor." He gave a bow, "Thank you, Saehara-san, but I must be going now—I hope the report is satisfactory." He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

"Ah—wait, Hiwatari-san!" Saehara called back, "One more thing before you leave." The boy stopped, hand resting on the doorknob, and turned his head. "Has your father mentioned anything to you lately about any press conference he's holding soon?"

Frowning, Satoshi's hand dropped to his side—apparently Saehara hadn't been appraised of the less-than-sterling relationship he and the man held. "No…I haven't spoken to him in a few days at least. When did you hear of this? And a conference to announce what?"

"That's exactly what I was intending on asking you," the elder man admitted, settling back in his chair, "A reporter from the _Azumano Weekly_ called this morning looking to confirm a time with our press department—it's supposedly been set for Sunday afternoon, two days from now. They directed the call to me, but when the guy found out I had no idea what he was talking about, he told me he had been asked by Supreme Commander Hiwatari not to mention any details about the conference beyond the time it was scheduled. I thought you might know something, but…"

Satoshi shifted uneasily and turned his eyes away. This _wasn't_ good…what could his father possibly have to make an announcement about that couldn't be discussed even with him? There had been nothing said of this at their last meeting, though that hadn't ended in the best of ways, when Satoshi thought about it. And when had Hiwatari Kei ever called a press conference before? From what he understood, the man tended to shun major events like that unless it directly benefited him in some fashion.

"Sorry to have kept you, Hiwatari-san, just curious." Saehara snapped the boy from his reverie, and Satoshi's gaze shot back up. "Thank you again for the papers."

"Ah, no…no, it was nothing." He bowed again and quickly exited the office, mind still playing at hyperspeed. Bumping into officers as he made his way to the front lobby, he offered no apology, keeping his head low and earning glares from all sides. He paid them no heed, though, and darted out the front doors into the chill again, completely missing the pair of cold eyes staring down at him from the bay window of an office on the top floor of the precinct.

Stopping at a crosswalk, Satoshi reached into his bag for his cellphone when a shrill beeping reached his ear, and stepped out of the flow of traffic into an enclave, bringing the device to his ear. "Hiwatari speaking."

"Coming all the way down to the station without even dropping by my office to say 'hello,' Satoshi? My my…and I thought I'd raised you to be more polite than that."

The boy frowned at his adopted father's obviously patronizing tone. "I had business to attend to with Detective Saehara. I believe I have reminded you on several occasions that I make it a point not to 'drop by' unless I have some purpose for doing such a thing."

"Then I suppose," Kei tested from the other end, "that you've not heard of my little announcement set for this Sunday?"

Satoshi drew a sharp breath, not even pausing to acknowledge that he _had_ heard about it. "…What are you planning?"

Kei tutted softly, "'What are you planning, _Father_?'" A sigh, "It's precisely that manner of speech that has driven me to such lengths, Satoshi… Really, if you'd only _cooperated_—"

"_What_ are you planning, _Father_?" he ground out quickly, and was returned a light chuckle. "Saehara said you wouldn't allow the subject to be released before the conference."

"There's going to be an announcement run on the seven o'clock evening news tonight, Satoshi. I suggest you watch it." There was a click, and the line went dead.

Trudging back to his apartment, Satoshi was in quite a sourer mood now than when he'd left an hour or so before, the threat of Kei's announcement hanging over him like a dark storm cloud. Whatever the man had in mind, it almost certainly had something to do with coercing the boy into reassuming his position at the station—blackmail, then? Would the man really stoop so low?

And what information could he possible possess that the general public might give a damn about? Certainly nothing about Satoshi himself, for few even knew he was anyone of consequence. Then…what? He wagered it was something he probably would feel better not knowing.

He wouldn't realize until that evening how right he was.

Following Kei's advice, he turned the small television in his living room on to catch the evening news, flipping through the local stations just in time to see a banner spanning the bottom of the screen boasting "Breaking News From the Azumano Police Department."

The camera focused on a female anchor, who was poised to deliver her story with a small stack of notes clutched in her grip. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it was announced this afternoon by an as-of-yet unnamed member of the Azumano Police Department that the forces against Kaitou Dark have made headway into putting a stop to this thief's bold snatches once and for all. Our newsroom was wired by our sister media source, the _Azumano Weekly_, that a press conference is to be held at noon this Sunday in the downtown convention center, where new information recently obtained regarding the true identity of the infamous phantom thief will be made public."

Satoshi's eyes nearly doubled in size, and the remote dropped to the floor as he gaped at the screen. "He wouldn't _dare_…" He reached forward and turned the television off, slipping onto the couch in a daze. "He wouldn't…_dare_ sink that low…No—no…no one would believe him! He's got no witnesses to back him—"

He slapped a hand to his mouth, and closed his eyes, a soft curse slipping out, "The officers…with Norita, from last Friday's job…_dammit_…" They'd heard the Niwa name uttered by Krad, and it wouldn't take long to make some sort of connection and draw up information on the clan, if he knew the Azumano investigative department. Norita Akira was an utter nitwit, but Saehara had chosen the rookie's backup officers well, and they'd been trained to pick up on even the slightest nuances.

"Had to open your mouth, _didn't_ you?" he muttered to his curse. "Couldn't just ignore Norita, you just _had_ to correct him and—and—say that _name_…"

* * *

"I want to know just how the _hell_ the police department got wind of our involvement with Dark!" Niwa Emiko bellowed, angry red eyes darting from husband to son to father, eventually coming to rest on a very flustered Towa-chan, who gave a squeak and darted away into the kitchen. "That fight you and that boy had _must_ have set him off!" She sighed loudly, "We'll definitely have to kill him now—I'd wanted to refrain from violence on our part this generation, but it's apparent it can't be avoided—" 

"_Emiko-san_!" Kosuke interrupted sharply, "Let's all just _calm down_." Daiki nodded sagely, and Daisuke just sat in silence, head cradled in his palms, shaking back and forth in defeat. "Now, while Satoshi-kun _is_ a likely source of this announcement, we cannot afford to safely say he's the _only_ possible source, right?" He cast a knowing glance at his wife, who huffed indignantly, crossed her arms, and sank into a chair. Directing his speech to his son, now, he asked, "Daisuke…can you think of any way information that might link us to Dark got out—I realize that we Niwas might not even be the implied 'true identity,' but we have to treat this very seriously."

Daisuke lifted his eyes and stared straight ahead, wracking his brain, as well as urging Dark to think long and hard, too. "I…Hiwatari-kun's the only one who could know…I never did anything in front of anyone else at school, except for…for the fight last week… I mean, anyone might have drawn conclusions from it if they'd already had suspicions about me, but I never…I never said anything about Dark or the Niwa family…"

'_Na, Daisuke_…_' _a tentative voice pressed, and the boy perked up, immediately drawing every eye in the room to him, _'That's not really_…_well, you never said anything linking me to your family, but_…_Krad has. And he did it in front of outsiders too.'_

"But…_when_!" the boy desperately called aloud, and Emiko tensed, a sharp look from Kosuke the only thing keeping her silent for the moment, "When—we've only fought him recently the other night at the Klein Cathedral, and Krad was—"

'—_Completely ignoring the four officers who were in the room with us, right?' _Daisuke paled in realization, _'See, even you forgot about them_…_We almost all did, and Krad's never cared enough to watch his mouth around outsiders. Your mom was right about those Hikaris never caring about anyone discovering their secret. I'm almost positive that's when it happened—that snotty boyfriend of yours wouldn't have waited 'til now to spill your secret.' _The redhead blushed all the way to his roots, but couldn't find his voice to snap back a retort, _'He would've done it well before, probably right after your fight, if not right after he confessed to you—if you assume he did it to force something out of you.'_

"That's right…Hiwatari-kun…wouldn't have waited so long…he's known my secret all this time, but he plays by rules! He wouldn't stoop to this—" He shot a glare to his mother, "—no matter _what_ others might think." Turning his gaze to the rest of his family, he repeated Dark's suspicion. "On our last job, we ran into four officers Detective Saehara had sent in to guard the bow. When Dark and Krad fought, Krad said—"

"Dark and Krad _what_!" Emiko exploded, standing straight up with her fists tightly clenched at her sides, and Daisuke pulled back in surprise, then realized that he'd neglected to inform his mother of his and Satoshi's current relationship—or rather, Satoshi's and Krad's. "What's this about your last job? Why wasn't _I _informed of this! This is _very _much something I think I needed to be told about!" She turned to Kosuke now, "Our son has been out fighting that—that _monster_ and he hasn't even told us about it, Kosuke-san!"

The man laughed lightly, "Well…that's not quite true, Emiko-san…I kind of…already knew…"

"You _KNEW_! How long has this been going on—and who else knows, hm?" She dared a glance at her father, who gulped nervously, "Did _you_ know! Am I the only one left out of the loop? What about Towa-chan!"

"Calm down, Emiko-san," her husband placated, "I only just learned the other day—and thought it best to keep it quiet since you tend to…blow things like this out of proportion." She obviously wanted to protest this observation, but Kosuke plowed on, "As for how long it's been going on, I'm under the impression that last week's job was the first one of its nature, in which Satoshi-kun allowed his curse to manifest, because—" His gaze darted over to his son, behind Emiko, who was desperately shaking his head, begging his father not to reveal his secret, "—because of some decision the boy evidently came to recently…I'm not sure what drove it, actually."

The Niwa matron stared her husband down, searching his face to be sure he was telling the truth, until she eventually either gave up or believed him. "Well, either way," she sighed, "This introduces a whole new set of problems to address in planning snatches. Daisuke—" The boy jumped a bit, "—you realize, of course, that this means we're going to have to factor in that monster in your daily training regimen now. And before you even ask, _yes_—this is on _top_ of your efforts to cut your times in half. I won't have you out there risking your life unprepared."

'_So she doesn't mind me out there risking my life if I am prepared?' _Daisuke thought bitterly, but nodded his assent.

* * *

"_I'll_ be talking to him, alright? Don't you _dare_ come out and threaten him—or I'll treat it as serious an offense as you violating the stupid compromise we have regarding Niwa." Satoshi frowned to himself, not sure how comfortable he was with using their treaty as leverage in a threat against his curse, but realized he really had no other bargaining chips. 

There was silence in his mind for a moment as Krad weighed the acceptability of this order, and eventually he conceded, _'As you wish, Satoshi-sama, but do not doubt me. I will manifest should that Hiwatari attempt to harm you in any way_…_I won't be asking permission, be assured.' _Satoshi chose to neither object nor agree to his curse's stipulation, himself not quite sure how he viewed it. He and his father's last meeting hadn't ended on the best of notes, and much to the boy's dismay he'd found he hadn't _really_ minded Krad's possessive reminder to his adopted father… It had actually given him something of a guilty thrill, to see the police commander whimpering under Krad's grip on Satoshi's behalf…

He shook his head furiously to clear such compromising images from it, and reminded himself why he'd come. Lifting a fist, he rapped loudly on the doors.

"Come in, Satoshi," Kei called before the door had even opened, quite confident he knew who was knocking. Setting aside paperwork he'd been drawing up in preparation for the press conference, he settled back into his chair, smiling contently. "Now isn't this something…twice in one day you've spoken to me, and on separate occasions too, I might add. I do enjoy our chats, son. I really do."

Flinching at the term "son," Satoshi launched right into his lecture. "I don't know what it is you're thinking of gaining by this, but you leave the Niwa clan out of it! I've told you before, you're not even a Hikari clan member, let alone an elder to decided how this generation's feud is handled. You've no authority to—"

"You don't know why I'm holding this conference?" Kei interrupted, not moved in the least by Satoshi's tirade. "Tell me you aren't _that_ stupid, boy. You know _exactly_ what I want you to do. This is simply…assurance. If you want to keep playing your little game of cat and mouse with your childish rules of 'fair play,' then you'll come back and take up your position again.

"If you truly intend to have nothing more to do with this inter-family battle, then alienate yourself from it completely and let me do as I please. Really, you should be thanking me. I'm going to do the dirty work _you_ didn't want to."

"I _am_ taking care of it, I told you! Surely you heard the officers' report last Friday—I let him out, and we very nearly won if that stupid rookie Norita hadn't bungled everything. How is that not good enough? Just because I'm not out there _myself_—"

"That is _precisely_ what I mean." Kei pushed his chair away and stood, frowning now. "You're taking the easy way out, Satoshi—the _weak_ way, and I know I didn't raise a _weak_ Hikari child."

"You didn't _raise_ me at all," the boy spat, "You simply housed me for a few months and sent me off to prepare for Dark in my own apartment. The Academy _raised_ me."

Kei ignored this, only narrowed his gaze. "I'll hear no more excuses from you. You have two choices. You'll either come back and resume your post as commander of the forces against Dark, as you've been up until now, or you'll have nothing more to do with this battle. _Neither_ of you, Satoshi. If you choose the latter…I will personally take over your duty, the duty of defending this clan. Neither you nor your curse will be needed any longer." The boy gave no response, silently seething inside. "That's all I've to say on the matter. It is Thursday now—you have until an hour before the press conference on Sunday. I suggest you give your situation some deep thought, boy. You may leave."

* * *

By the time Satoshi returned to his apartment for the second time that day, the city had been plunged into the lively darkness of early evening, all traces of the sun's warmth having sunk into the west. 

He had no choice…_no choice_…and it was all those damn _Niwas_' fault! If only he didn't _care_ so much, if only they didn't _make_ him care so much…his situation would be so much simpler! Why…_why_ had he been tossed into such a scenario as this, faced with such choices as these! Was this still part of his penance, part of his curse? Caught between a rock and a hard place…but what meant more to him?

Of course he would go back…he _had_ to. He still…cared for that boy too much to see his life completely flung into chaos just because Satoshi wanted some rest. Daisuke would at the very least never be able to show his face at school again—no, he wouldn't even be able to go out in public again. His entire family would be forced into hiding, and it would be even harder for Dark to pull off his jobs if he had to constantly look over his shoulder to be sure that the police weren't following him back to wherever the Niwa clan was holed up.

This was precisely why his clan had never stooped to such tactics before—it took away the entire point of their feud when outside authorities were involved! It was one thing if those outside authorities were Hikari clan members themselves—it was _duty_, after all. But for centuries this had been a strictly Hikari/Niwa battle, that was it. Hiwatari was violating the unspoken and unwritten rules of war! He was calling _Satoshi_ weak for allowing Krad to do all the work…when it was the police chief himself who was taking the easy way out.

No…he would give in, he would buckle under the pressure. He'd have to break off his compromise with Krad, that much was certain, and undertake the pursuit of Dark with his own hands again. This would no doubt anger the blonde greatly, but at this point Satoshi couldn't care less. He'd indulged the little whim of allowing his curse more freedom—he would simply say he'd decided it wasn't worth the effort.

Then everything would be back to the way it was before…

Wonderful. Just perfect. His life would suck again.

* * *

Krad sat in the back of Satoshi's mind as asked throughout the conversation with Supreme Commander Hiwatari, his rage against the man growing ever steadily with each word rolling off the forked tongue. It was only his telling Satoshi that he wouldn't manifest so long as Hiwatari didn't try anything that kept him at bay—and even that had been stretched to its limits during the meeting. 

For now he could feel it creeping in like the tide—the familiar wave of sorrow, the depression brought about by utter frustration and inability to do anything to change one's lot in life. Satoshi's emotions hadn't sunk this low since his confession to the Niwa boy, and it wasn't a sensation the blonde was looking forward to experiencing again. And what had brought it all on…?

Hiwatari Kei. The man responsible for making his precious tamer's life—and consequently _his _life—hell. The one making every effort to impose his own desires on the boy, to live vicariously through him. The one…who would surely pay for making his Satoshi-sama miserable.

True, Krad allowed, Hiwatari's blackmail attempt appeared to do exactly what Krad wanted it to: It would force the boy back into his proper role as protector of Hikari family items. For he _was_ the ideal protector—not Krad. Krad was there to ensure that _somehow_ the artpieces were defended. That should an heir ever, for whatever reason, fail to fight Dark, there would be someone to ensure that the works didn't go unguarded. For where, then, would be the point of their fight? It was simply another situation in which their battle would be useless.

But then came the matter of weighing the importance of the two issues he was faced with, much as his host was doing right now. Would he allow Hiwatari to order Satoshi around this way—to order _him _around this way? The police commander _was_ doing one thing Krad agreed with: getting the boy to return to work. But he was accomplishing it by means Krad most certainly did _not_ agree with: _blackmailing_ him into returning.

In the end, the blonde's loyalty would always fall on the side of his Tamer, and _never_ with an outsider. In a matter of family pride versus his host's happiness…how could he respond?

Well, it wasn't a matter of his host's happiness alone, though. It was his host's happiness…and Krad's _own_ pride. Hiwatari was assaulting his honor, _ordering_ him not to interfere in that which he'd been created to.

Just who did this human think he was?

Obviously he needed to be taught his place…And Krad considered himself quite qualified to administer the lesson.

Satoshi-sama would, no doubt, grudgingly agree to the man's terms—he cared for that Niwa boy too much, still. He would return, despite his better judgment, and plunge himself into that way of life he so despised all over again, when Krad had worked so hard to attain _some_ sort of accord with his Tamer.

For this, Hiwatari had to be punished. And if Satoshi had not the will or means to do so, then Krad would take matters into his own gloved hands.

Without the boy's knowledge, of course. Such things were not for children's eyes.

* * *

Two days passed without word from his son, and the police commander was beginning to get anxious. He knew Satoshi would have made his decision by now, so why hadn't he called? Perhaps he was putting it off for as long as possible, delaying the inevitable. Whatever the reason, he felt confident the boy would contact him before the next day's scheduled event. 

Everything was still coated with a thin film of wetness from the earlier afternoon's showers as Hiwatari Kei exited his office on Saturday evening, locking up for the night on his way home. He and his adopted son had mutually agreed to live apart nearly a year ago now, so that the boy could focus on living independently without distractions, focus solely on Dark, focus on what he was born for.

Clutching his briefcase close to him, he turned up the collar on his trenchcoat and hurried across the empty intersection; there were few cars out at this hour. His office was situated deep in the heart of the downtown Azumano district, and so parking spots were few and precious. He counted himself lucky that his was only a few blocks away, with a short walk through a local park.

Streetlamps flickered overhead as he furtively wandered along the concrete paths to the old lot, and he found himself looking to his sides every now and then, sensing he was being watched. After a moment, though, he shook his head and reprimanded himself—he was a grown man, and this was a walk he'd made many times before, at night _and_ during the day. Why was tonight any different?

Because, though he didn't know it, tonight there was someone waiting for him. Not to his left, not to his right—and not in front of him or behind him. This someone was waiting on top of the streetlight Kei was just about to pass under, great white wings folded close to his body to conceal his waiting figure.

He would wait only another second, before swiftly unfurling the wings and hurtling down to scoop up the unsuspecting Hiwatari, and then, having knocked him out, would carry him off into the night.

* * *

When Kei came to, everything that had happened up to his blacking out came slamming back to him with the force of a bullet train, and he groaned groggily. He was slumped up against a wall, resting on a stately marble floor that was most certainly not a part of the park or his office. It was too dark to discern exactly where he was, but— 

"Do you like it, Hiwatari-san? It was once one of many Hikari estates in the Tokyo area, but around the time of the Cultural Revolution the family was stripped of most of its fortune, many of their fantastic artworks being burned and destroyed by the fools in the government of the era." Krad stepped forward into a circular pool of light cast by the moon that glowed overhead, visible through a large window on the ceiling. His golden hair swayed behind him, glinting like fresh-spun flax, and his eyes flashed in devilish mirth. "What works they could salvage they sent to every corner of the earth—and already many have found their way back here, to their home. For the moment, though, this house serves as a museum of pre-Revolution artifacts. But then…you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Wh—what did you bring me here for, Krad? What do you want?" As soon as the words had left his mouth, though, Kei immediately regretted them. He had a feeling he already knew why Krad had brought him here, and asking the question directly seemed like asking the guard with his hand on the electric switch why one was sitting in the electric chair. "Dark's nowhere around here—you aren't needed."

Krad smiled and shook his head, stepping forward, ever closer to Kei, who had nowhere else to which he could back up. "Patience, patience, Hiwatari-san…all your questions will be answered soon…but first, _I_ have something to ask you, a little…query I've been pondering since our meeting the other day. You remember it, don't you? When you rudely slapped poor Satoshi-sama's cheek? He wasn't very happy, you know…" Kei gulped, and Krad stopped in front of him, squatting down on his haunches, and rubbed a gloved finger gently over the trembling man's cheekbone, almost mockingly soothing him.

"Did you know…that the Hikari family is not the only family with magic power flowing through their veins? It's simply…that they are the family with the _most_ magic, the most _active_ family in the world. Did you know that, Hiwatari-san?"

Kei somehow found the strength to hastily shake his head, intent on merely humoring the creature.

"Oh, but it's true, you know. Every human has _some_ magic in them, though for the great masses wandering along in ignorance to its presence it is miniscule and negligible. You, like most humans, would have to band with others in a force of some several thousand to combat the power contained in my left index finger alone—think of it that way. Satoshi-sama is a Hikari, and though he cannot compare to me, pure magic as I am, he could wipe you from existence without batting an eye had he not the mental control he does. Be grateful you did not adopt Hikari Akira—now _there_ was a true Tamer…but I digress." He waved a hand, urging, "Please, stand," and it was obvious it was not a request, simply a polite command. Kei obliged.

"Now, Hiwatari-san, I will answer your questions: Why did I bring you here, what do I want? I don't really _want_ anything—at least nothing _you_ have the power to give me. If I wanted something so mundane as that, believe me I would have already taken it by force. No, I have brought you here…for a different reason.

"It is painfully obvious to me that you do not fully appreciate the honor you've been paid by being allowed to raise Satoshi-sama as your own child. He is the pride of the Hikari family, an arrival hoped for each generation, _my_ arrival." He began to pull on one of his long gloved fingers, slowly removing the material. "And you were entrusted with his care, during one of the most important stages of his development, preparing for the time when I would manifest and he would take up his position fighting the Niwas.

"He is a being more beautiful, more precious, more _godly_ than your pathetic human mind can even comprehend, and he was given to _you_. To you! Do you not _understand_ that? One who could as easily destroy you as acknowledge you, and you were _permitted_ to bask in his presence…I still do not understand why Satoshi-sama put up with you for so long." He folded the glove and placed it in a pocket, then proceeded to work on the next one.

"And yet despite being accorded this privilege, you have of late treated Satoshi-sama as if…well, as if he were a mere human like yourself. You threatened him, held the Niwa boy over him like a carrot, instructing him to jump for it. You bent him and bent him, making him conform to your will, and I dare say you nearly broke him." He folded the second glove as well and placed it with its twin, then stepped back.

"That was your first mistake: You made Satoshi-sama sad."

He held up a finger and began twirling it in the air, as if wrapping an invisible something around the digit, and Kei looked on confused, then suddenly felt his right upper-arm muscle tighten uncomfortable, and Krad smiled.

In a flash, the golden being jerked his arm backwards as if ripping a fraying string off of his coat, and Kei too was pulled forward, hand clamping down on his arm again, and he let out a cry, falling to his knees in pain.

Doubled over, he heaved loudly and shook uncontrollably. He pulled his palm away from his stinging arm and stared at it in horror: it was covered in blood….in _his_ blood. Blood which was now seeping profusely from what appeared to be a tiny slice-wound, sending spurts of crimson onto his clothes and the floor. He looked up in horror at Krad, unable to express his confusion.

"Did it hurt, Hiwatari-san? I should think it did, Dark doesn't like it either when I manage to get my fingers wrapped around his threads. But then, it's a difficult task to do with him, he's so adept at hiding them from me. Yours, however, shine like little strings of fire, calling me, and so I answer." He twisted another finger now, and Kei felt his left side hitch, like he'd just run a mile and was developing a cramp.

"You made your second mistake when you tried to replace _me_. Telling Satoshi-sama that if he did not return to his position as police commander then you would take matters into your own hands—really, how _stupid_ can you be? To think that a human could replace Krad of the Hikari in a role I've been playing out for _hundreds_ of years?" A cruel laugh escaped. "Now that was your own fault."

Rip rip snap, and another thread was pulled, tearing through Kei's delicate aura and spattering the floor with further flecks of blood. The man gasped, as if struggling to scream but finding his voice was caught halfway up his throat and unable to be released.

"Do you know what these are, these threads I'm ripping from your body? You cannot see them, I know, so I will do you this final honor and explain them to you." Krad's voice took on its usual light tenor wave as he tugged teasingly at another thread connected to Kei's throat.

"These are astral anchoring threads, tying your physical body to your astral magic that runs in your blood. So, when I pull like _so_—" He accented the final word with a yank and opened a fresh slit on the man's neck, which squirted pathetically, for Krad had been sure not to—as of yet—hit his jugular, "It draws the anchor through to the physical realm, and extracts a bit of your life with it." As he watched Kei writhing on the floor, twisting as he tried to cover his new wounds, he smiled and cooed, "Yes, I imagine it hurts very much for a human."

He followed up by unceremoniously ripping another ten or so threads from different parts of the man's body, washing the floor beneath him in a spattering of red, smeared into phantom glyphs by the thrashing body of the police commander. Each new thread snapped, and the torso shifted with a grieving cry that wracked his body, heaving and wheezing, until it seemed he would go hoarse for all the yelling.

Krad squatted down again, having somehow kept his person completely free of the gore Hiwatari was flecking the walls and Hikari artifacts with. He sneered contemptuously at the display, disgusted at the creature breaking down before him, and hopped back just out of reach as the man stretched out a hand for mercy. "You brought this upon yourself, Hiwatari-san. I am blameless, as you can see. Had you not first wronged Satoshi-sama, and compounded it by wronging me, you might have escaped my retribution…but, there is still a way you might redeem yourself…"

Kei's gray eyes seemed to flare back to life, forcibly rising up to view Krad's face as if it were the face of an angel sent from heaven to bring him back to life. The Hikari curse stood back to his full height, all the while keeping Kei's gaze trained on his rising figure.

A hand outstretched, he spoke, voice filled with grace, "Now, apologize to Satoshi-sama, Hiwatari-san…tell him how very sorry you are and beg for him to forgive you…and you may be forgiven."

"…P-please…please…Sa—Satoshi…I…I'm so—rry…I didn't…I didn't treat you…with the respect you deserved…F-forgive me…._please_!" He mustered the plea with all his strength, voice hoarse with pain, and he coughed loudly. As his entreaty died away, he gazed up expectantly, wondering if he dared to hope for any mercy…

Krad smiled that devilish smile of his. "I'll be sure to pass along that pathetic apology to Satoshi-sama." He began twisting again, and Kei's face paled in horror as he felt his chest constrict, perhaps the same feeling one might have during a heart attack.

"But—you…you said I would be forgiven! I told him I was sorry! I—you _lied_!"

Shaking his head, Krad replied gently, "Oh no, no…I _never_ lie…I said you _may_ be forgiven. And who knows, you may be. By someone other than myself, perhaps. But never by me…" He gently tugged the invisible thread connected to the heart, prompting Kei to relieve the tension by rising up to his knees, tugging pathetically on Krad's immaculate white robe.

"No…no, _please_…I understand now, how foolish I was…_forgive me_…" In a flash of inspiration, his appeals grew more fervent, "Satoshi! Satoshi—it's me, your father! I'm here—don't let him hurt me anymore! Satoshi! _Satoshi_!" Tears welled up and began seeping down his pallid face, mixing with blood and sweat, "Sa…_Satoshi_…"

His hand fell away and he laid his head on the floor, succumbing to whatever fate might subsequently hand him, and did not lift it again, even as Krad bent and settled a hand on the crown of his head, stroking him soothingly.

"But Hiwatari-san, didn't you realize? Satoshi-sama cannot hear you…"

* * *

5:30 came far too early in the morning for Aizawa Hanou, head of security at the Hikari mansion-turned museum, and the aging man in his mid-forties was hardly eager to begin another dull day stationed off a backroad outside of the Azumano district in the front lobby of a museum few knew existed and even fewer visited. 

Pocketing his keys with a clanking jingle, he wandered through the maze of hallways, flicking on light switches as he wound his way towards the center of the great building, a daily ritual. Sauntering down the hallway into the ballroom area, though, a dank smell wafted up from the ground and into his nostrils, tainting what had been fresh air before he entered the hall.

His face twisted as he tried to block the mysterious stench, covering his mouth and nose with his shirt collar, to no avail. What _was_ that smell? It was familiar, yes, but nothing he could pin. When he pulled open the great oaken doors to the ballroom, the horrid odor seemed to be magnified ten times, and his eyes watered.

The cloudy day prevented much sunlight from streaming in through the glass window-ed ceiling, so he had to fumble around on the wall for the light switch, patting it down until his fingers brushed the knob. For some reason the floor was sticky, and he frowned, annoyed. He'd have to fetch the mop after this—apparently one of their few visitors had snuck in a drink the previous day and dirtied the floor, and something must have died in the vents as well, because the stench just _would not leave_.

_Click_

The room lit up bright as day, and he smiled, pleased that _something_ was finally going right today, and turned around. Wouldn't it have been a fine start if one of the lamps had gone out—

"Oh my _God_…"

It was a sight right out of a horror film, so grotesque, so surreal, so _unearthly_. The floor was positively _drenched_ in blood, smeared and caking in filmy puddles beneath his feet—the walls, too, were spattered with flecks of blood like someone had taken a paintbrush, dipped it in gore, and shaken it around the whole room.

But there, right on front of him, was a corpse, pinned—no, _crucified_ on the wall: small golden crosses staking his hands and feet, and a gleaming golden sword angled down, impaling the man's chest. The stomach had burst open at some point, letting what looked to be gray ropes hang down freely, and the blood had drained down, pooling in the feet and staining them an inhuman purple hue, with fresh life-liquid still oozing from thousands and thousands of tiny slashes which decorated every inch of exposed skin, the chest, the arms, the neck, the face, the legs.

What remained most intelligible of the face was the mouth, twisted open in a silent scream, head lolling forward as if directing pleas at the sword, begging it to remove itself from his abdomen. And indeed, rigor mortis seemed to have set the corpse arched forward, trying to pull itself off the instrument even in death.

Hanou took a step back, his face frozen in wide-eyed horror, when his eye was drawn to faint writing above the mangled body, scripted in what he would dare conjecture was the very blood the man, the floor, and the walls were soaked in.

_**The False Prophet**_

Slipping a few times on the blood-slicked floor as he scrambled to the front desk to telephone the police, Aizawa felt he would never be rid of the image of the man he would come to discover was Hiwatari Kei, former head of police, staked to the wall of the Hikari Mansion's Central Ballroom, with the famed Toki no Kusabi piercing his gut.

* * *

_Author's Notes_: Alright everyone, it's that time—time to remind you all that in the next chapter the rating's gonna go up to R for graphic violence (and of course, a little sexual content, but that's for later :P). I hope you've all enjoyed the drama so far, and it only gets more intense from here. Next update in one week! 


	7. Requiem for a Nightmare

_Galatea_

_Seventh Movement: Requiem for a Nightmare_

"You live with your thoughts—so be careful what they are."

_Eva Arrington _

* * *

_  
BAM BAM BAM_

A thin eyebrow twitched in annoyance beneath the sheet Hiwatari Satoshi was snuggled under, seeking in vain some warmth to carry him through the night and into this early morning. It twitched again when the banging continued, like a little bird pecking away inside his skull, pulsing in his mind: wake wake wake. Wake wake wake.

_BAM BAM BAM_

An eye cracked open, a single pupil dilating, turned towards the window, greeting the morning sun on a day he shouldn't have been awake for yet—it was _Sunday_, why was he not being allowed to sleep in? The past few days arguing back and forth with Hiwatari Kei had begun to take its toll on him in the form of dark baggy circles underneath his eyes, standing out on the smooth pale flesh of his face.

He squeezed his eyes back shut again and buried them in the pillow, drawing in a deep breath, then dragged his arms up from either side of his body and steadied them beside his head so that he could ease his body into an upright position. Slowly, slowly, he managed the task, listening to his weary back crack under the stress, and released a great yawn.

Finally, sufficiently conscious to understand that he had to go answer the door—on the other side of which someone was still banging—he set his feet onto the cold hardwood floor and padded slowly into the living room.

7:00 was not really _that _early in the morning, but it was a Sunday, so it counted as early today—so early that he didn't seem to really care the state he greeted his guest in, forgetting his tousled hair sticking out in cowlicks, or his mismatched striped pajamas, or even the drunken, half-awake state he no doubt exuded from every pore.

_BAM BAM BAM _

He could hear angry voices—lots of them, in fact—muffled through the door, and furrowed his eyebrows over half-lidded blue eyes, alert enough to wonder now why whoever it was at the door hadn't simply buzzed from downstairs to even see if he was awake yet. Or even more so, how they'd gotten inside in the first place: his apartment was a "closed environment." Guests couldn't enter unless escorted by a resident.

"I'm coming…I'm coming…" he murmured just loudly enough to rouse himself more, though he knew full well that whoever was pounding on his door wouldn't have heard it. Rubbing his eyes once more with his left hand, he reached his right out and unfastened the lock system, slowly cracking it open. "…Yes?"

He discovered that opening the door probably hadn't been in the best of interests.

"You're Hiwatari Satoshi-san, correct?"

"Hiwatari-san! What comments do you have on the situation?"

"Could you give us a moment, Hiwatari-san?"

"Hiwatari-san! Do you know anything about the murder?"

"Excuse us, Hiwatari Satoshi-san! Please—how close were you with him, tell us!"

Eyes which had a mere few seconds ago still been half-asleep now popped open fully awake at the sight right outside his little apartment door. A quick scan showed him that his hallway, even all the way down to the elevator, was jam packed with people, dozens of reporters and television newscasters it seemed, from their cameras set up on shoulders and microphones shoved in his face.

"_OUTTA THE WAY!_" a deep booming male voice ordered, scattering a few of the more aggressive reporters nearest to Satoshi, who appeared to have been trying to pull him further out into the hallway. "If you don't have a press pass you've no right to be here—we're checking them now so get them out if you've got them. Now, MOVE BACK!"

Satoshi stared blankly, emotion washing from his face, as a familiar form stepped through the throng, pushing the boy back into his own apartment, followed by a few other officers who managed to slip in behind him. The last one—a young rookie it looked like, probably fresh out of the academy and not looking all that comfortable with all this attention outside—shut the door and muffled the loud thrum the crowd was making; the living room was once again dead quiet.

Having backed up a good few feet when Saehara had burst in, Satoshi was now moderately relaxed standing behind his couch at the far end, hands nonchalantly stuffed in his pajama bottom pockets, and giving the elder man a look that said, "What the _hell_ was all that?"

The inspector ran a harried hand through his slightly thinning black hair and sighed loudly. "We weren't expecting such a crowd this early—it's barely been an hour and already…but it can't be helped."

Satoshi supposed this was to be taken as the best apology for the intrusion the man could muster at this point, and moved his hands from his pockets to cross them, annoyed, over his chest. "Saehara-san," he began in his usual clipped manner, suppressing the yawn that threatened to surface, "…If you hadn't noticed, I'm not a member of the police force anymore—I certainly hope you didn't come here looking for guidance on some case. Moreover, it is Sunday, I am a middle-school student, and it is my only opportunity during the week to sleep in—if you have something to discuss I beg you to make it quick."

The slightly relaxed air that had permeated the room before now dissipated, and Saehara stretched up straight, adjusting his tie. "I only wish it were that, Hiwatari-san." The boy flinched inwardly, not yet comfortable with this much less formal address than his usual "Supreme Commander" he'd entertained prior to his retirement, despite his distaste for the title.

Saehara opened his mouth again, as if about to make an addendum, then abruptly shut it once more, sighing low, and passing his eyes up and down the boy's form, doubt running rampant through his mind. He pursed his lips into a thin line and his brow creased: baggy pajamas in wrinkled disarray, wispy blue hair sticking out in every direction, and dark bags that attested loudly to the fact that he'd just been woken up…the boy hadn't even bothered to put on his glasses, and this made him appear all the more…

'…_Innocent_… _He has to be_… _I would know if it was him, I'm sure of it_… _He couldn't hide it from me, but he can't have done it_… _You're so calm, it couldn't be you_… _Please don't let it be you, please_…_'_

Satoshi stared, mildly perplexed to say the least, and shifted his focus from Saehara in front of him to the door they'd just entered by, no doubt questioning the mayhem outside. The sight of him like that made him appear all the more young, the more childish, just a kid woken up early—he didn't even consider putting up his usual "genius-prodigy-already-graduated-college-at-thirteen" persona he normally projected—it was just _too_ early.

Turning his gaze back to the couch, he noticed now that his apartment was not in the most clean of states, hardly fit to entertain visitors, and he bent down abruptly over the back of the sofa to move piles of papers and notes to the side, completely missing the sudden tensing up of the officers, hands flying to their badly-concealed guns hanging from their belts.

"Then what is it? If you needed some information from me, you could have called me down to the station—I've still got all my notes as you can see." Having cleared away a spot for them to sit on, he tuned his eyes back to the detective. "I'd really like to get back to sleep—though I'm equally interested in knowing exactly why there is a media frenzy outside my front door. It's thick wood—I could have comfortably rested another forty-five minutes before they knocked through it, you realize?"

Taking a cue from the boy, Saehara motioned to his men to hold back and calm down, then took the proffered seat, inviting Satoshi to sit beside him. "Hiwatari-san…there's been…there was…" He faltered only a moment before slipping into "debriefing" mode, much more comfortable rattling off cold facts to his former superior than trying to explain things to one he saw as a "little boy".

"At 5:37 A.M. this morning, approximately one hour and twenty minutes prior to our arrival here, a corpse was discovered by a security guard in the central ball room of the Art Preservation Museum in an eastern prefecture. Units were immediately dispatched and a report was filed—"

"And?" a cold voice interrupted; Satoshi had little interest in police matters anymore—especially ones that did not involve Dark. "That's the police's job to investigate, is it not? I no longer work with you."

Saehara narrowed his gaze, brown eyes darkening forebodingly. "The victim…was the High Official Police Commander…Hiwatari Kei."

* * *

…_Dead_? 

Saehara continued to babble for another five minutes or so, but Satoshi easily tuned him out, thoughts turning inward as he struggled to process the news.

No…how could he be _dead_? Kei was…not his most _favorite_ person in the world—especially of late—but it…it just wasn't _right_. Satoshi had just talked to him the day before! How could…how could he be dead now?

Not just dead, no…he had been murd—

"Hiwatari-san?" Saehara interrupted his train of thought, and the boy blinked a few times to readjust his focus on the worried face staring across the couch at him, "Did you…hear me?"

"Ah, I'm…I'm sorry Saehara-san…it's just…it's something of a shock…would you mind repeating it?"

Saehara grimaced. It had taken a bit of courage to even ask the question in the first place, and the boy was being so damn _polite_ that he wasn't making it any easier. "I…I said that we've come by…to ask you to accompany us down to the station for…for questioning." Satoshi narrowed his eyes a bit, and the inspector tried to allay any suspicions that might be forming in the shrewd mind of the fourteen-year-old, "Ah—please, don't think of it as an interrogation…rather, we'd prefer to inform you of our evidence gathered thus far, and…and see what perceptions you might have to offer…"

A pause, and Satoshi turned away, slipping back into his coma-like state, "I see…Could I…at least get dressed then?"

Saehara scrambled an apology and assured him that this was perfectly fine—it wasn't like they'd come to arrest him or anything, and the boy slowly pushed himself up off the couch and wandered like a zombie back into his room.

Kei…he'd been Satoshi's guardian for…it must have been nearly eight years now…when the Academy had shipped him out to attend public school and finish his education. He'd been living on his own for a while now, but before that he _had_ lived with Hiwatari…so it still felt…empty to think he'd not see him again.

He could still hear the voice from their last meeting the previous Thursday—it was still there, in his head! Telling him he'd better make his choice to go back to the police soon, or he'd take matters into his own hands, would take care of Niwa himself, would…

…Take matters into his own hands? Would he have…_could_ he have really done that?

A soft knocking on the thin wooden door snapped the Hikari boy back to the present, and he whipped his head up from buttoning his shirt. "Hiwatari-san?…Are you ready yet?"

"Y—yes! One moment please!"

He finished the remaining buttons in a flurry of fingers and slipped on a pair of loafers before grabbing his keys from the nightstand. Pulling the door open, he offered the detective a reassuring smile, who still appeared a little uncomfortable with his situation, having to bring his former superior in for questioning. "I'm ready, Saehara-san."

"All right." He ushered the boy back into the living room and nodded to one of the officers nearest the door, who lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth and informed whoever was listening in that they were about to come down. After an affirmative reply, the small group pulled the door open again and eased into the still-bustling crowd.

The throng erupted once more into a storm of questions and comments that rained down upon Satoshi with the fury of a hurricane, just as it had come down when he'd first opened the door to let Saehara and the others inside. He refrained from offering any of them so much as a chance to meet his eyes, and instead kept his gaze focused on the immaculate black shoes of the rookie in front of him.

"Hiwatari-san! Could you give us any words for the paper?"

Oh, he had words, he had _lots_ of words…but none that would be appropriate for publishing in any public paper. Most of them involved his wanting to get down to the station as quickly as possible and find out what the hell was going on and why his father was now _dead_…

All too quickly, though, a dark sneaking suspicion was forming in his mind…but he would give _him_ the benefit of the doubt. His actions of late merited at least this much. Satoshi would wait until he was provided more information before forming any hard ideas on the identity of the murderer.

_'You just keep sleeping, Krad_…_I'll call you when I need you, which may be sooner than I'd like.'

* * *

_

The crowd didn't thin out any even when they got outside of the building, and Satoshi remained shielded from pushy reporters by his escort until safely inside the black police car that had been sent to shuttle him downtown. A collective sigh was released when the doors shut and the car pulled away, but the feelings of anxiety which had brought it about returned once they reached the front steps of the Azumano District Police Station, once again greeted by a great gathering of cameras and microphones. Saehara did his best to scare off the younger ones, but the older, more experienced "news hounds" refused to relent until Satoshi was safely inside and out of their reach.

"Please, take a seat, Hiwatari-san," Saehara intoned, gesturing to a chair situated across from him in a dimly lit room he'd just been led to. The boy knew this room well enough; he'd been in it before, though only then as a bystander, monitoring the interrogations carried out by Saehara or some other detective beneath him.

The elder man motioned for one of the other officers to bring a file from a table over to him, and then he in turn passed it across to Satoshi, instructing him to leaf through it. "These were taken at the scene about an hour ago, as soon as my men arrived at the old Hikari Mansion—"

"Hikari?" Satoshi looked up from the manila file he'd just opened, leafing through a few pages of generic rules and regulations regarding the material, about to peruse the photographs, "He died…he was killed…at the Hikari Mansion?"

Saehara studied the now alert features of the boy who'd been so quiet and passive a moment before, something having been ignited inside him with the mention of the location of the murder. "Yes…" he affirmed hesitantly, then continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Most of them are copies of the coroner's documents—we left him down there with a few other officers so he could give us at least some vague assessment of what might have conspired when we go back this afternoon—but there is quite a cache of evidentiary photographs as well. You may, however, have trouble…identifying the victim…"

The man certainly hadn't been lying. His blue eyes widened significantly in shock, breath hitching in his chest as he flipped through the images.

"We never would have known it was him if he hadn't had his badge on him…"

Kei—or he assumed it was Kei—impaled Christ-like on the wall, clothes hanging from him in bedraggled tatters, any exposed skin sliced open and still glistening in the light of the morning sun streaming in through a skylight.

A close-up shot: It was the Toki no Kusabi, no mistake, entrails hanging off it like so much garland, gleaming hilt stained red and slick with body fluid.

Another close-up: Two tiny golden crosses impaling his hands like nails, tendons caught on the razor-sharp blades.

A wide shot: **_The False Prophet_** written in blood above the head.

Chest shot: rigor mortis had set the back arched forward in an effort to push the weapon off his chest, with his skin broken and bleeding as if scourged with a whip made of razors.

But the worst was near the end…Saehara noticed the boy pause on one of the pictures and turned an eye down to see what had captured his gaze.

"We're still…not entirely sure how that could have been done…" He gestured to the coroner's close-up shot of what remained discernable of Hiwatari Kei's face, bloodied and bruised and missing an eye, lower mandible twisted open in a perpetual scream. "The coroner suggested some…some thin sharp object had—"

"Excuse me." Satoshi pushed back from the table abruptly and scuffled to his feet, darting out the door and down the hall to the bathroom, and did not come out until his entire stomach had been emptied of its contents.

* * *

Some time later Satoshi finally found the strength to put himself back together and return to the interrogation room where the detective sat patiently awaiting him, and apologized for his sudden departure. 

"It's alright, really—and…I think that's enough for now. We'll call upon you again when we've got more information." He pushed his chair back and led the boy to the door. A few men beside him appeared to object to this, about to speak up, but he easily silenced them with a harsh glare. "Go home, try and focus on something else for now…leave this to us this time, Hiwatari-san."

Nodding mutely, Satoshi let himself be led, once again, like a docile sheep back out to the waiting police car, by now used to the swarm surrounding him as he made the short walk from the glass doors to the safety of the vehicle.

After finally being escorted back up to his apartment and urged to stay there unless he absolutely had to leave (and so that he might avoid any reporters as well), Saehara returned back down the stairs and left the boy alone with his thoughts.

Or rather, not _quite_ alone…for he definitely had something to say to someone now.

* * *

He'd given him the benefit of the doubt—given it so freely and had it thrown in his face. But really, should he have expected any differently? There he was, being stupid again. As if he hadn't learned the first time. 

"…_You_ did it…didn't you?" Krad didn't respond, though the boy knew it wasn't because he was still resting. He could feel the waves of consciousness pulsing in his mind like a migraine, never ceasing, never relenting. "You _killed_ him…!" Squeezing his eyes shut, he slammed a fist into the wall angrily, then winced and cried out as he remembered this was the hand he'd sliced open only a couple of weeks before, and it began throbbing anew.

"You couldn't just…" His voice trailed off into a whisper, and he clenched his hands into fists and roared in frustration, "Couldn't just leave this to _me_! This was _my_ choice! You had _no right_ to interfere! _No damn right_! I never asked for—for _that_!" He slid to the floor just inside the living room, cradling his head in his palms, and fought back tears of anger. "I never…would _never_ have asked…"

_'That is the sheer beauty of it—there was no need for you to ask me, Satoshi-sama. I simply did what was most expedient to attaining my goals. You should trust that I had sound reasoning, as I always do.'_ Krad shimmered into view a few feet from his host's slumped form, refusing to succumb to the boy's emotional attacks.

"_Sound_ _reasoning_?" he almost laughed, an incredulous tone in his raspy voice, and gave a feeble sniff, "My father is _dead_ now, simply because you fancied that I might like it better that way—"

'_Tut tut tut_…_ Must everything be about you, Satoshi-sama?'_ Krad crossed his arms defiantly, daring his host to respond to the bait. _'Hiwatari_…_was a threat. A threat to you, a threat to me_…_and I merely executed that threat for the sake of our own survival. It was, as you humans call it, "self defense"—'_

"Self defense!" he cried, voice cracking, and he finally looked up at the blonde, blue eyes quivering in anger, "For a crime he hadn't even committed!"

'_That does not erase the fact that he was willing and able to commit it.' _Krad wrinkled his nose in disgust at the memory,_ 'Dangling that Niwa boy over your head like a carrot and telling you to jump—you would have gone back, wouldn't you?'_ Satoshi turned his head away but said nothing, _'And I_…_I would have been without purpose, would have faded away—and we can't have that, now can we? He had to be disposed of, Satoshi-sama, you know he did. You may refuse to accept it in your mind, but in your heart of hearts you know that this was what had to be done. You should be thanking me, not having to dirty your own hands.'_

Satoshi lowly pushed himself to his feet, using the wall behind him as leverage, and shook his head grimly, "…Where does it _stop_ with you?" Krad simply stood there, letting the boy let his frustrations out. "How far…how _far_ will you go on the excuse that t was just to save yourself! To save _me_, to keep this damn clan going! An innocent man is _dead_—"

Krad frowned and interrupted,_ 'I would hardly call Hiwatari innocent—'_

"He _was_!" Satoshi snapped, eyes glinting angrily, "And you know it! You couldn't take being forced back in your little corner, back into your passive role where you just sit back and let me run my life as I please! So you killed him—and you did so in what looks to be the most horrific way possible. Gods, you _enjoyed _it, you always enjoy the thrill of taking a life! And _nothing_ is worth that…least of all _you_…" Krad's face washed free of any emotion, his Tamer's words sinking deep into his being and stirring up feelings of guilt within him. "…Isn't there some point…where it all becomes senseless? How many more must die as an excuse to keep this tri-century feud going? Wouldn't it just be better, if…if…if it were all over and done with—if we were all gone? Haven't we reached that point—where it's just wrong to keep trying so hard to stay alive…when we're better off dead anyway?"

The blonde stepped forward slowly, golden eyes fixed on his Tamer's flushed face, and gingerly cupped the boy's chin as he leaned forward to whisper softly in his ear, _'Oh never, my Satoshi-sama_… _We shall never reach such a point_…_for no matter what, I will protect you until I should fade away into so much astral dust_…_and from there I will watch over you from the heavens and guide your art_…_'_

A shiver ran through Satoshi, breaking Krad's spell, and he waved a hand through the image, breaking it up before him. Pushing through the scattered remnants, he stomped off towards his room, silently seething and wondering why he even tried to reason with his curse. "You can consider the agreement off."

Krad balked at the doorway to the room—he'd thought it would be sufficient to simply let his Tamer slough off his frustrations, and in a few days this entire matter would be forgotten, Satoshi would realize how much better things were without Kei meddling, and the two would continue their relationship as before.

'_You_…_but_…_' _Golden eyebrows pulled together in indignation, _'What is the meaning of this? You can't be serious_…_'_

Satoshi stopped at the foot of the bed and turned to his curse, almost laughing at the pitiful sight, "You thought you could do such a thing and escape scot-free? That I wouldn't retaliate in any way?" Krad gave no response, and it was evident now to the boy that he'd thought just that. "Oh no, no… Congratulations, you've just destroyed any _hope_ of my giving you my trust in any way. I _trusted_ that you might follow our agreement and not kill—"

'_Did you not hear what that stupid detective told you? Hiwatari is dead—not the Niwa boy! I have not touched him, as per our compromise—'_

"_Anyone_!" the boy erupted, mouth twisting into an angry snarl that actually made his curse take a step backwards, "You _knew_ that applied to anyone! That was why you didn't harm those officers when Dark took the _Yume no Yumi_! You _told_ me! You—_promised_…"

'…_I promised no such thing, Satoshi-sama. Those officers were in no way threatening either of us, so I allowed them to live. Dark as well, as he falls distinctly under our agreement, but_…_I would never agree to simply sit back and allow myself to be rendered useless. You should know better than that. And if someone has made themselves into an obstacle, if they should prove to be a hindrance to either you, or me, or both of us as the case may be_…_I won't hesitate to dispose of such a threat.'_

Satoshi now slumped onto his bed, eyes shut, weary from arguing with the blonde. "…Nothing _ever_ gets through to you…You always do this, make assumptions that you _know_ I would never allow…You're like a little child I have to keep my eye on or else you'll wander off and do something naughty like _slitting a throat_…"

A corner of Krad's mouth twitched and he crossed his arms, _'Satoshi-sama_…_are you lecturing me?'_ The words rolled off his golden tongue with an air of incredulity, like some impudent teenager receiving a scolding from his father.

"That depends," Satoshi returned coldly, "Am I having any effect on you?"

'_Oh yes, yes_…_ you have the worst effect on me_…_'_

The Hikari boy scoffed and muttered softly, "Gods, it's always the same…nothing I say makes a difference…everything's one grand joke in your eyes… You don't even care that you've just committed the highest crime punishable by man! That there's one less life in this world…and that it's _your_ fault…"

Krad regarded him for a moment, mildly confused, before replying in all honesty, _'You're absolutely right. I don't care.' _Satoshi's head shot up—he hadn't actually expected his curse to confess the fact so _freely_. _'For I cannot—if I indulged in such a luxury I could not have survived these three centuries to come rest in your consciousness. I could not have kept up with Dark if I honored such a notion as sparing a life if at all possible. I adopt the most expedient manner to retaining myself in my current incarnation, whatever that might be. I will kill whom I need to, and spare in the same way—'_

"You most certainly will not," the boy stated defiantly. "Not with my body—not without a fight," he amended.

Frowning, Krad pressed, _'Satoshi-sama, you must try and understand—this is not a subject open for discussion. It is ingrained in me—part of my purpose, simply another aspect to it. You cannot keep me from it; we both know how successful that's been in the past_…_'_ Satoshi covered his face with his hands in defeat.

'_Do not fight me, Satoshi-sama_…_I don't want to hurt you.'_

The hands lowered, and he pushed himself up slowly to stare incredulously at the blonde, then scoffed roughly, "Well, you're off to a bang-up start then, aren't you?"

* * *

"Inspector Saehara…" the man began, slightly flustered at being put under so much pressure, "…I—you know I can't give a proper analysis of the body for another few days at least. I need _time_ to examine the victim. To ask me to assess the situation and give a probable cause of death within a mere few hours is…asking for a flawed inspection." 

"I'm perfectly aware of that, Doctor." Saehara nabbed one of the officers running back into the ballroom of the Art Preservation Museum and told him to have the body wheeled out into the foyer area where they were currently standing. "And we'll release it to you as soon as I file the appropriate paperwork. I simply…want some general idea. So I at least know just what to classify this as." The detective shook his head and stared at the double doors the officer had just gone through, "Never…not in over thirty years on the force…I've _never_ seen a piece of work like this." He turned his gaze back to the man before him. "Just give me _something_, Dr. Nakayama. What could have done…all _that_ to that poor man?"

Nakayama sighed and slumped his shoulders, then reached into his pack and took out the pad on which he'd jotted notes following his cursory examination. "Fine. This is only what I could derive in the mere couple of hours you gave me when you left this morning. We'll start with…well, I suppose the head is as good a point as any."

A squeaking noise interrupted the doctor, and both men turned to see the officer Saehara had just sent away rolling in a long dolly covered with a sheet. The detective nodded and dismissed the young man, and Nakayama reached forward and pulled the material down to the collarbone.

"First, the skull."

_

* * *

__"Oh? Feeling a bit of apprehension now, are we?" Krad's laugh was high and soft, truly enjoying the sensation of holding such power over another living being. Ah, he hadn't felt this way in so long, in so many incarnations; there'd always been something stopping him. No host for Dark, or an unwilling host, or some other such nonsense. It felt_…_right to be here again. _ … 

_Kei's eyes darted back and forth around the room, mind latching onto the faint hope that perhaps the monster before him had forgotten to lock the oaken doors behind him. That perhaps, if he made a run for it_…

"_Don't even think about trying to escape, Hiwatari—we'll be far too busy conducting business tonight for you to consider such an option."_

_This didn't seem to deter Kei, who eased along the wall nearer to the doors as subtly as possible—quite a feat—gaining nerve when Krad didn't seem to be interested in stopping him. After a split-second's thought, he dashed across the polished tile floor, and Krad simply rolled golden eyes, twisted his finger around an invisible something, then pulled back with a flick of his wrist._

* * *

"The victim has a complex fracture here." He gestured with his pen to an area of matted blood at the top of the skull just behind Kei's right temple. "It's perpendicular to the superior temporal line, on up into the right parietal eminence. He might have gotten it…tripping? Some kind of head trauma? A fall onto a solid surface might have caused it." _

* * *

Kei's head throbbed with a gentle pulse, and he brought a trembling finger up to massage his skull, then gasped when it came away bloody. He shot a frightened gaze over to his abductor, who smiled innocently, head cocked to the side. _

_"You should watch your step. Slippery floors they have here."_

* * *

"The throat…I can't imagine what might have caused that. If it weren't for all the blood, I'd suggest some sort of strangulation—perhaps with fishing line. I've never seen it cut so deep, though." _

* * *

"Do you still doubt these threads, Hiwatari? Even as they bite into your flesh and stain you with your own life-blood…__can you still doubt them?" Krad twisted more and gave a little yank, and the man cried out as he flailed at his neck, choked by means he couldn't comprehend._ … 

_"T—Take—sto—" The plea was gurgled and drowned out as he coughed up more blood, spattering the floor before him. _

_"If only you could appreciate how truly beautiful a sight you are right now, all red and glistening and pawing at your own threads, slumped down on your knees surrounded by the very family you so envied_…_" Kei coughed again, and gasped roughly for air. "Yes, I knew you, knew how much you wanted to be one of us—an elite Hikari member. Even going so far as to adopt Satoshi-sama, in that vain hope that some of his majesty might slough off into you_…_the dregs of greatness, that was all you could aspire to. Pathetic."_

* * *

The doctor reached to pull the sheet down further. "Moving down to the legs—" 

"But what about…that _eye_? And…surely you've got _some_ idea of…just what in the hell happened to his chest…" Saehara prodded.

Nakayama frowned. "It's…I could only offer faint possibilities. It's as if…the entire bulb of the eye was pulled out of the socket, but to do so would have snapped the optic nerve at the base. Instead we're left with…simply the nerve sheath—the entire vitreous body seems to have been drained, hanging from the orbit. In other words, it's an empty eyeball. A limp sac that once was one of this man's sight organs. As for the chest—we already know exactly what happened to it—he had that blasted artpiece shoved into his ribcage, according to that poor flustered security guard who found it. I want to address that particular wound last, as I feel it serves as a jumping off point for our killer's motive—I'm working my way through the lesser ones _first_." Saehara grunted an agreement. "Very well. The lower limbs, now…"

_

* * *

Krad stifled a disinterested yawn, growing bored with simply teasing the man writhing on the floor before him. It was time, he decided, to step up the pace. The night was well under way, and he wanted this bit of business taken care of before the sun rose. With any luck, Satoshi wouldn't witness any of this. _

_"You know_…_" he drawled, cocking his head to the side, "Satoshi-sama is really not going to be pleased with me, I've realized. Much as he does despise your methodology, he was fully intent on returning to his position—though I doubt it was from any grudging respect for you." Kei had barely the strength to lift his head up and gaze at Krad, neck spurting fresh crimson ribbons. "I think I may be in for quite the tongue-lashing in the morning_…_how inconvenient. We were just starting to get along, too_…_"_

_He appeared to contemplate the situation for a moment, finger on his chin in thought, and then smiled softly at Kei. "Very well_…_" He bent forward to peer into the flushed face, relishing the eyes quivering in fear._ _"The door is behind you, Hiwatari. If you leave quickly—if you scramble to your feet this very moment, you may never see me again."_

_Kei balked; he wasn't stupid enough to take the bait unflinchingly. After a moment's contemplation, though, he summoned up the remaining strength in his body to push himself upright. He took a few tentative steps, then slowly looked over his shoulder at his captor, as if testing his leash. _

_Krad was still smiling, eyes tiny slits, and made a shooing gesture. Kei wasted no more time and began hobbling across the room, not knowing if this was real or if perhaps he'd slipped into some chaotic dream state._

_He learned soon enough, just three steps away from his freedom, that such hopes were not intended for him. He had sinned, and he would pay—pay most dearly._

_There was a faint clinking of metal on metal from behind him, but Kei didn't dare turn around, and instead reached out for the doorknob with trembling fingers—only to feel something slice white-hot and scalding across the backs of his knees, tearing apart his—_

* * *

"—hamstring muscles. Completely slit apart the semimembranosus and semitendinosus. I dare say he had a hard time walking after the murderer did him that way. And to make matters worse—" He pointed down to the ankle now, "You can see the same thing was done to the tendocalcaneus here—his Achilles tendon. If we put that with the head trauma, I say the poor man tried to run away and got caught, so his captor clocked him and cut him up for safe measure." _

* * *

"You really believed me?" Krad chuckled, his new toy dragging on the floor beside him as he approached Kei, slumped on the floor and sobbing loudly. "Come now, you should know I bow to the whim of no human." He sighed dramatically. "Satoshi-sama will no doubt be angry with me, I admit, but he will see this is all for the best. For him, for me…__and for you as well, Hiwatari-san. For you will no longer be blinded by Satoshi-sama's radiant light, no longer burned by his presence_…_ Am I not a most merciful being?"_ …… 

_He noticed Kei's gray eyes resting on the object he held in his grip, and pulled the handle up over his head, letting the length trail along the floor, clinking lightly. "You haven't seen this one, have you? My seventh Tamer, Hikari Akira, fashioned it—he did so enjoy metallurgy, but more so the 'hands on' aspect. He would sit in that stifling forge for hours, and I never understood his fascination_…_until I first laid hands on this whip_…_this piece of art." He squatted down on his haunches to give the immobilized man a better view._

_"It isn't a painting, nor a statue or musical composition_…_but as you can see, it is still art." Kei made no response, for his voice had nearly disappeared from screaming, and Krad grew a bit miffed, "Don't you think it's a beautiful work, Hiwatari-san? I must say it is at the very least original_…_" He stood back up, and picked up the end of the whip, frowning._

_Had Kei been in most any other situation, not slumped on the floor of the Art Preservation Museum bathed in his own blood, he might have been able to appreciate the object properly. It was a good eight feet long, not that impressive, but then_…_there was the fact that it was unlike any whip he'd ever seen before. Rather than a thong made of rope or cowhide, the unique piece Krad held looked to be nothing more than a long metal chain with a nasty dagger attached at the end, ready to impale whatever the Hikari curse chose to crack it on._

_"It's very accurate and easy to manipulate, you know. Akira-sama prided himself on it—unheard of, a whip made of metal. After all—how could such a heavy thing be used?" He flicked the instrument in a flash and opened up a long gash along Kei's back, sending the man into new howls, having apparently found his voice again. "Just like that, Hiwatari-san. Just like that."_

_Krad shook his head in pity and sighed. "Why, human, do you assume that I must have mercy on you? Why do you think that, sooner or later, I will relent? Do you think your stubbornness means anything? Do you think it impresses me?" He gave a feeble laugh, completely devoid of mirth. "You, human, are a transient speck. You mean nothing. Not to me. Not to the world. Not to Satoshi-sama._

_"Before you die, though_…_you will amuse me. You will beg. You will grovel. You will offer to debase yourself_…_in the most hideous of ways. And I will not listen. Then you shall truly suffer_…_" He leaned forward and pushed the man over onto his back with the handle of the whip, the cold metal stinging his exposed flesh. "You will then, truly scream_…_ And then_…_you will die. In full knowledge of your insignificance. Your cowardice. Your ignorance_…_ And in pain, you will die a most exquisite death, human. Let me_…_begin."_

* * *

"The talus was crushed at some point—there went his ankle joint. You can see the surrounding ligaments have been ripped apart, so it was probably stepped on sideways and pushed out of plane with the other bones." Nakayama moved up the leg to the thighs now, with Saehara following in horrified attention. "Not much more damage to the upper leg than that, though, apart from these thin gashes all over them—the muscle cutting must have happened early on, and so there was no reason to do any more damage to his lower appendages, it seems. From here…" He hesitated a moment, then steeled himself, "I think we can now address the chest wounds. 

"The _Toku—Toko—To—_"

"_Toki no Kusabi_," Saehara supplied as the doctor stumbled over the artwork's title.

"Y—yes. That sword." Nakayama shifted uncomfortably and returned to his notes, "As you know, the victim was, at some point, crucified on the wall of the ballroom with the _Toki no Kusabi_." He gestured to the chest with his pen and swallowed, "The point of the sword was forced into the chest cavity, cracking the sternum in two at the body, and just grazing the heart, puncturing the right lung as he was staked to the wall."

_

* * *

"Come Hiwatari-san," Krad crooned, "Stand up—surely you can stand, can't you?" Kei's reply was a long moan and sobbing hiccup. "No? Then how about kneeling? Kneel, and beg for your life. Here, I'll even help you." He leaned forward, dropping down to one knee, and extended a hand with all the feel of saving grace. _

_The beautiful man with his equally beautiful golden voice_… _It was the quintessential delusion of humans: that beauty equates goodness._

_"I see you're having a bit of trouble accepting my offer," Krad chortled, and turned and walked the length of the room into an area cordoned off by shadows. Kei could only whimper—he would almost welcome death now, anything to end this torture. He was bleeding from too many points to count, couldn't run away or even stand, simply sat there, mutely awaiting whatever the monster had in store._

_"Do you remember this work, human? I quite admire it—though it is but a mere shell now of its former glory." He cracked a smile at the man on the floor. "There is no magic in it anymore, only a glint of the beauty its Hikari master imbued it with. Surely you cannot have forgotten the Toki no Kusabi, could you?"_

_He gave the whip in his other hand a crack and wrapped the chain thong around Kei's neck and hoisted him up, back against the wall, chuckling darkly as the man flailed wildly about. "I would be more gentle, but I don't like to touch things of the mortal realm if I don't need to. Don't worry—I'll free you from this chain whip's grasp soon enough."_

_Without further delay, he thrust the sword forward with all celerity right into Kei's sternum, grunting softly when he met with the resistance of bone, and simply hammered it further in. "Such a beautiful scream, human. I have enjoyed listening to it this night."_

* * *

"The victim was still alive at this point—enough to further hurt himself by struggling against the stake. Shredded his right lung with all his moving about, and started to asphyxiate. The killer had him hoisted just high enough off the floor that he couldn't stand; whoever he was, he had apparently planned this elaborate murder ahead of time. He _knew_ how to crucify a victim." _

* * *

"Do you know what the fascinating thing is about crucifixion, human? It's actually…__" He made an effort to push the sword in even further, apparently not quite satisfied with the depth it had been buried. "It's actually death_…_by asphyxiation, you know. The way the arms are pushed out, just like this—" He grasped a thread connected to Kei's right hand and lifted it up flush against the wall, then drove a needle-sharp cross directly into the palm, relishing the gurgled gasp. Kei could no longer scream. "—makes the process of breathing so difficult and exhausting that eventually one can no longer do it_… _Though I don't think we need to worry about you breathing for much longer._ ……… 

_"The hands were secured to posts—or walls—so that they couldn't rest_…_ Sometimes just with ropes, and sometimes like so—" He grasped the thread of Kei's left wrist now, staking it to the wall like the right. "And sometimes—sometimes, you see, the lungs would fill with fluid_…_so the victim would have them punctured, to drain it." He smirked at the blade holding the man to the wall. "I really don't think that's necessary in this case—though I may relieve you of some of this weight holding you down."_

_He took a step back and flicked the whip over his head in a graceful arc, slicing the gut open and letting some of its contents spill out. Kei's response was to arch his back forward, rending him from the inside out as he slid along the blade of the sword._

_It was quite amazing to Krad how the man was still holding up through all this, albeit on the very verge of shuffling off the mortal coil. "Death by crucifixion was so popular with the Romans because it was such a long, slow, and incredibly painful death. It could take days, sometimes a week, depending on the weather and the appetites of the animals that happened along." He waxed thoughtful now, "I've long wondered just how long an indoor crucifixion such as this might take_…_but this museum opens in a mere few hours_… _So that answer must wait until later."_

_He reached into his pockets now, and began putting his gloves back on in a clinical manner. "Satoshi-sama sends his love, I'm sure, Hiwatari-san." He shot an icy glare at the man staked to the wall, "And please, stop sniveling. Who knows—in a few hours he may actually have pity for you." He turned quickly and began marching towards the door, robe flowing behind him. "After all, everyone speaks better of a man after he's dead."_

* * *

"The rest is up to you, Detective. I'd like this body turned over to me as soon as possible for a full analysis, but I do understand you need it for your report." Saehara nodded, shaken. "I hope I've offered at least some insight. I stand by none of my observations though—I told you that already. Not until I can examine him at my leisure will I allow that." 

"Of course, Dr. Nakayama. And thank you for offering what you could. You're free to go now—I'll have to body sent to you at the morgue as soon as possible." The doctor nodded and gathered his things, leaving the detective with the body.

Saehara shuddered internally—what kind of _monster_ could have exacted such a brutal murder? Never, in all his years on the force, had he witnessed such a crime. Sure, he'd seen murder scenes—gang shootouts, yakuza business and the like. But this…this was so different…so _unexpected_. Hiwatari hadn't been head of the department long enough to develop enemies like Saehara himself had—it was completely illogical.

So…could it have been random? Was there a serial killer somewhere in Azumano, hiding down an alley behind the _Femme Fatale_? Or lurking in the shadows down by the tennis courts of Azumano No. 2?

No, it was _too_ random—that was the problem. The location said as much; why would a murderer drag his victim so far outside city, and yet commit the crime in a place the victim was sure to be found?

And what of this phrase, "_The False Prophet_"? Saehara sighed in frustration and radioed a unit to come pick up the body. Just too many questions, and he had hardly any idea where to start looking for suspects. The boy Satoshi, he was almost positive now, had no connection whatsoever. The look on his face that morning had convinced him as such. Perhaps forensics could work with the coroner and come up with _something_.

The week ahead would certainly be a long one.

* * *

It was merely the fact that if he didn't do it he would find himself under even more suspicion than he already was that made Satoshi attend his father's funeral. It had taken a good week before the police had decided that they'd learned all they could from the indiscernible remains of Hiwatari Kei and had allowed them to be disposed of in whichever way his single living relative—Satoshi—saw fit. 

Inspector Saehara, in a moment of compassion for the now-orphaned Hikari boy, solicited Azumano's well-to-do for the fee for a less-than-modest funeral, which what seemed like half the town attended.

The Niwas included.

Seats had been reserved for the four-person group, for Satoshi had somehow known that such an event would not be passed up by his rivals, whether they saw it as a chance to express their sympathy or simply laugh at how low the boy had been brought.

The mother—Emiko was her name, he recalled—was fidgeting nervously between her husband and son, shooting glances all around them at the other guests, apparently believing that Satoshi had planned all along to use this as a chance to dispatch Daisuke.

'_Yes, that's right, Niwa Emiko. Rather than shoving your son into a bathroom stall at school and slitting his throat in privacy, I figured a flashy execution in front of a few hundred people in broad daylight would be a better route.'_

Well, there was one thing he would give the woman—she was a shrewd matriarch if he'd ever seen one, well-versed in her family's history. And he'd rather Daisuke be over-prepared, he'd admit, than under-prepared.

_"A Hikari is never unprepared!"_ He could still remember her harsh words to the redhead from a few months ago, shortly after the Toki no Byoushin incident; though she'd been shouting, she'd probably thought Satoshi hadn't overheard.

That's all he was to her, wasn't it? Just "that Hikari boy." Krad's host. Out to get her precious Dai-chan. He scoffed internally as he watched her fiery red eyes scanning the ceiling—most likely searching out trap doors from which Satoshi could pounce upon Daisuke from above. _'If I truly wanted him dead_…_he'd be dead, woman.'_

No, much as the Niwa mother would refuse to believe it, today wasn't about a feud. It didn't even, really, directly involve the Niwa or Hikari families. This was a funeral for Hiwatari Kei, his adopted father and guardian.

_'Some guardian.'_

The man on the end…Kosuke, wasn't that his name? Niwa's father…yes, they'd spoken before, he remembered. On the same occasion as when he'd heard Emiko's warning to her son not to be unprepared around the Hikari boy. It had been…an interesting talk with the elder man, to say the least.

Niwa Kosuke had smiled so warmly at him, spoken as if he were Daisuke himself, so easily, without preconceptions that biased him as they did his wife.

_"You're_…_Hiwatari Satoshi-kun, aren't you?"_

Hiwatari…Hiwatari…yes, to Niwa Kosuke he wasn't "that Hikari boy," he was _Hiwatari_ Satoshi. He didn't _want_ to be related to his blood family, so to that man he was as good as being from a completely different clan.

Currently the brown-haired man was fervently trying to get his wife to calm down, aided by his son and father-in-law. Emiko was in turn trying to get _them_ to all be more alert—a battle she was quickly losing as her family members tuned her out and shook their heads, sighing.

Moments later the throng quieted down and took their seats, and a few impassive eulogies were delivered by elder members of the police force who'd worked with Hiwatari the longest. Unlike at most funerals, there were no long bouts of wailing or quiet mourning, simply people who felt it their duty to be there to see off the Police Chief.

The crowd stood as one and formed a long line to pay their last respects, and Satoshi took his place by the coffin—they'd opted for a closed casket, for obvious reasons—and bowed respectfully at the passers-by who lay flowers or other ceremonial gifts at the base.

He was beginning to develop a small crick in his back from bending forward so much, and silently rejoiced when the final few people passed by, noticing a pair of shiny black shoes stop in front of him. Pulling up, he found himself staring up into the warm gaze of Niwa Kosuke.

He gave a low bow to the boy. "My sympathies, Hiwatari Satoshi-kun," and laid a lily on top of the casket, then turned to move back over to his family, of which Emiko was tapping her foot angrily, glaring at her husband. Daisuke seemed a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal and was tugging on the cuff of his sleeve, averting his eyes from Satoshi's gaze.

When the man stepped away, Satoshi surprised even himself by reaching out suddenly and grabbing hold of his sleeve, holding him in place in front of him. Kosuke turned his head slightly when he felt the tug, and looked down at the boy curiously, who had by now become aware of how childish his action was, and had turned his eyes away.

"I…I'm sorry…" he spoke in a tiny voice, quickly releasing Kosuke's sleeve and bringing his hands back to his sides.

Emiko was about to burst, and began to call her husband in a light voice which hid her rage, "Kos—" But she stopped immediately when the man held up his hand to silence her. She curled her hands into fists and probably would have marched forward right then and given him a piece of her mind had she not had her father and son restraining her.

Instead, Kosuke turned fully to face the boy. "For what, Satoshi-kun? You have nothing to be sorry for—it is a day for mourning, not for seeking forgiveness, you know." When the boy didn't reply, he misinterpreted the reason for the silence and began to apologize for his wife, "Ah…really, don't mind Emiko-san. She's always been a bit high strung about…about…your family…"

Satoshi shook his head and clenched his fists, hissing in a low voice that the Niwa mother wouldn't be able to hear, "No…I'm sorry…but it—it wasn't _me_!" He turned his face upwards and Kosuke paled at the sight—the usually emotionless voice cracked, spilling out his fervor as his eyes threatened to spill out tears. "It wasn't me!" he whispered again in quiet desperation.

Someone had to know—_someone_. He had to tell _someone_ who could understand how it wasn't his fault his father was dead. "He…_he_ did it…but I swear I had nothing to do with it!" His hands rose up and clutched at Kosuke's lapels, as if about to shake the truth into the man. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Niwa? You know it, _don't you_?"

Kosuke blinked rapidly and brought his hands up to remove Satoshi's grip from his jacket, steadying the boy against him. The watery blue eyes stared up with empty hope diluted in them, praying that this one time a Niwa would look at him and not see the wrongs Krad had done, but would see the desperate Satoshi inside.

"I…I didn't…" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, leaning into Kosuke's comforting embrace, wondering in the back of his mind if this was what it was supposed to feel like when your father held you. Warm, safe, like nothing else mattered, that you'd be protected by him…_loved_—for who _you_ were, their child, and nothing else.

Hiwatari had cared for Satoshi for one reason: _Krad_. But Kosuke…Kosuke no doubt cared for _his_ son for _many_ reasons, least among them being Dark.

"I know you didn't, Satoshi-kun…You aren't like him, you aren't—I know, Daisuke knows, and Emiko-san…she…deep down she knows too." He pushed Satoshi back slightly so that he could face him fully, and bent down a little so the two were at the same height, and wiped away a stay tear. "I don't…I don't know what you want us as Niwas to do, but…I know this isn't easy for you, so…just…" He fished around in his pocket for a moment before withdrawing a small pencil and slip of paper, scribbling something on it, and then passed it to Satoshi, not giving him time to refuse. "Just…call, anytime, for anything… Don't think of it as even talking to a Niwa, if you don't feel comfortable with that—I won't tell Emiko-san or Daisuke, it'll just be you and me, like father and son almost."

Satoshi suppressed a gasp and furrowed his eyebrows, staring down at the tiny slip of paper. Another moment passed, and he eventually stuffed it in his coat pocket. "Th…thank you…Niwa Kosuke-san…"

"Please—" the man urged, standing back up to his full height and wandering back over to his wife, "Call me Kosuke." He gave another small bow and hurried back to his family, with Emiko hastily shuttling them out the doors.

"_It'll just be you and me, like father and son almost."_

Perhaps the Niwas weren't as bad a clan as he'd been taught. At the very least, Niwa Kosuke wasn't. Satoshi now saw where Daisuke had gotten that nature of his that so endeared most anyone to him—it was all but impossible for one _not_ to like Niwa Daisuke.

He turned slowly and regarded the coffin behind him, its handsome mahogany lid shut tight and clasped. Satoshi frowned, imagining what state the body was in inside its satiny interior—had they even bothered to make it somewhat presentable, despite the closed-casket funeral?

If he opened it right now, would he see that mangled, blood-smeared face, with its single eye rolling backwards and mouth twisted open in a perpetual scream? If he listened hard enough, could he _hear_ that scream? If he closed his eyes and concentrated, could he transport his essence back to a week beforehand? Could he stand in Krad's stead and drive the _Toki no Kusabi_ into Hiwatari Kei's chest, would he feel the same _rush_?

'_I hated you, Father_…_ More than you could ever—or will ever—comprehend. And now that he's taken you from me_…_I don't hate you as much. Does that please you?'_

He gave a soft laughing cough—everyone always spoke better of a man after he was dead.

* * *

_Author's Notes_: For those of you who made it through the murder scene, conrgrats on strong stomachs. As a reward, any further scenes of a graphic nature will be of a slightly different type... Update, as usual, in one week! 


	8. Lessons Learned

_Galatea_

_Eighth Movement: Lessons Learned_

"If you would have me weep,  
you must first of all feel grief yourself."

_William Bridges_

* * *

Satoshi did not want to be here. 

It wasn't because he objected to taking this as punishment for fighting when he'd last come to school—the day he'd gotten into a heated fistfight with Niwa Daisuke. Nor was it because he had better things to do, or that he didn't like cleaning. Truthfully he actually looked forward to his turns as nicchoku, even though he'd be cleaning the room afterwards—well, so long as the person he was working with wasn't that annoying Harada Risa, he looked forward to it.

But not today. Today was detention—or rather, today was punishment by cleaning in lieu of detention. Punishment which had been put off as he sorted his affairs after the funeral. Punishment by cleaning…with Niwa.

Alone, in that empty room, with no one but Niwa there beside him wiping down the blackboard and sweeping the floor. And worst of all, Satoshi could almost hear the apology already, so he wasn't too surprised when a mere fifteen minutes had passed into their cleaning time, and the words rolled off of Daisuke's tongue.

"Hiwatari-kun…" Satoshi swept the eraser over the black expanse, wiping away the day's lecture notes, and ignored the redhead. "I wanted…to apologize. For everything I said when we fought…" When he still received no reaction from the Hikari boy, he went on hesitantly, "It was…wrong of me to react that way, telling you that—for…for trying to tell you what to do… It wasn't my place."

Satoshi was immutable; he knew what the other boy was thinking, behind those kind apologetic words. He knew Niwa wasn't _really_ sorry for what he'd said—knew that he only felt that Satoshi had "learned his lesson", and would perhaps be brought back to his senses by the murder. Yes, that was just like Niwa—no more reason to lecture now, Satoshi could almost hear the "I told you so" perched on his lips.

But he did not offer any kind of reaction to the confession, instead moving over to the corner and taking an old broom in his hands, sweeping it from side to side along the front row of desks. The faster he finished with this work, the faster he could get out of this uncomfortable situation faced with one of the last people he wanted to be alone with…the faster he could be alone, instead, with the _other_ last person he wanted to be alone with.

Niwa, though, seemed to have other ideas, and pressed on with his stubborn attempts to draw some kind of reaction from the other boy. Biting his lip, he moved towards the middle of the room, grabbing a stack of papers and piling them off to the side so he could wipe down the desks. "There sure were a lot of people there…at the funeral, I mean. I didn't know your father was so popular, since…you never talked about him much…"

It seemed to work, for a cold voice returned icily, "He wasn't popular. Those people only came because it looked good for them to be seen there." He bent down to scrape a pile of dust into the dustpan, then dumped it into a nearby garbage can. "And you know full well he wasn't my real father anyway."

"But…" Daisuke paused and faced the boy, "It still hurt to lose him, didn't it? You were close, weren't you?"

It took all of Satoshi's emotional control not to shudder in some way when the redhead spoke to him like that, the pity absolutely _oozing_ from his lips. "_Lose_ him?" he coughed roughly, more than a little incredulous, "You talk about it as if he's just a thing I misplaced that I'll find again soon enough under the couch or behind the desk." Setting the broom back in the corner, he added bitterly, "And close? Don't make me laugh."

"So you're trying to tell me it didn't hurt at all when you found out that he was dead? That Krad—that he'd been killed?"

Oh—that _boy_…he didn't know it, but he was _really_ pushing Satoshi's limits with these comments. Satoshi didn't _want_ to think about hurting, about feelings he had for his adopted father, filial though they might have been. He just wanted to sit at home alone in his bed hating Krad, and not thinking about anything more complex like remorse or sadness.

Hate was a simple emotion to experience: he hated Krad. He hated Dark. He…had loved Daisuke, before. Now…he didn't know _what_ to feel for him. Before they'd been so close, but of late the Niwa boy had been avoiding Satoshi for obvious reasons, among them being his pact with Krad and the matter of him _telling_ the redhead he loved him.

But if Niwa kept talking and making comments like this, asking him how he _felt_…he might have to start confronting emotions like loneliness and such—and that was pretty much the _last_ thing he wanted to go through again.

So he replied with a simple, "Not at all," to the question, brushing it off and letting it slide away, repelled by his usual cold exterior. He moved on to the center and began wiping down desks like Daisuke.

"Then…why were you crying at the funeral?"

Satoshi flinched. _Dammit_…he hadn't thought about him being seen by anyone other than Kosuke, least of all Niwa—though now that he though about it, their family _had_ been the last to leave, so of course he would have been the center of attention. Busted. Then…did they know of his exchange with Kosuke? Of his words of fear he'd spoken?

…Wait, no… No, Niwa thought he'd been crying from sorrow, pain of losing a parent. Idiot Niwa. Always quick to pick up on emotional changes, but always for the wrong reasons.

No, Kei's death had not been the reason for his tears. Rather, it had been the utter frustration and anger with Krad, frustration that the Niwas would confuse his mind and heart with the golden demon's, that they would just see them as one dangerous being, instead of Satoshi and Krad, separate, with separate wishes.

Kosuke saw it, and that was why Satoshi respected him, and why he was so annoyed with his wife. Niwa Daisuke…he could now never have a long enough conversation with him without getting angry to figure out just how different he thought Satoshi and Krad were…but he suspected the redhead's own bond with his curse would make him understand that they were separate in mind, if not body.

"I…was just…it was for show…It would have looked suspicious if I hadn't."

"Liar," Daisuke spat, a bit more harshly than usual, "You've never done anything like that just to protect your image—not for anyone." Satoshi, though, didn't want to admit that it had been because of Krad, because this Niwa was…not someone he wanted to show weakness before. For reasons beyond family feuding.

He was _supposed_ to feel superior, as a Hikari—that's what Krad always whispered in his mind late at night, when he thought about Daisuke most. But even deeper inside, deep where Krad could not penetrate, a little bit of inferiority had taken hold—all his life he'd been younger, smaller, weaker than everyone else around him, because of his intelligence and prodigal skills.

Better because he was a Hikari, huh? What exactly was it that made him better, was what he wanted to know… Because whenever he looked at his enemy, he always felt inferior…so wasn't that in itself a contradiction?

Daisuke seemed to get tired of pressing with his questioning, and when the Hikari boy refused to respond to anymore of his queries, he eventually gave up, and the cleaning went by rather quickly. Within another hour they had finished and were picking up their own bags by the door.

Red eyes lit up as Daisuke suddenly remembered something and called out to his adversary to wait, who reluctantly complied, ready to get home. "Here—Dad told me to give it to you…said you could use it probably."

Satoshi stared down blankly at the envelope proffered him for a few minutes, before he hesitantly reached out and took it. Without another word, the redhead darted out the door, and he heard the slapping of his shoes on the floor slowly fading away. It was only after they had disappeared entirely that he permitted himself to open the letter.

Relaxing against one of the desks, he ran a careful eye over the scribbled note, aware that there was something else in the package besides the written part.

Satoshi-kun 

_I give this to you; use it how you will. _

He shook the envelope over his hand, and a small, intricately made black ring fell out into his palm. After staring at it for a moment in confusion, he turned back to the letter.

_A small bit of sealing magic was alchemically infused into the metal of the ring—enough for one use. Use it, enjoy it, and he won't be able to take you, no matter how hard he tries. But just once—you'll retain your own consciousness, though you will transform with the proper stimulus, as always._

_Use it wisely, for this is a once-only chance. I hope it helps._

_Kosuke_

He turned and stared at the ring again. This little thing…he could put it on…and Krad couldn't come out? Was that what this letter meant?

Folding the letter up again and placing it and the ring back into the envelope, he smiled softly. Kosuke was trying to give him a chance to be himself, without worrying about barriers to keep Krad from surfacing…to express his true emotions.

No matter how he looked at it, it was…a very fatherly thing to do.

* * *

Another week passed, and Satoshi found himself starting what would become a monthly ritual. 

The flowers weren't much—just an arrangement of silk blossoms that wouldn't die in a few days like normal flowers, which he'd had prepared a few days beforehand at a little shop down the street from his apartment. The ground beneath his shoes was still soft and a bit muddy from a recent shower, attesting to the fact that Hiwatari Kei wasn't even cold in his grave, and already Satoshi was beginning to adjust to life after the murder.

Nearly two weeks since the Police Commander's mangled and rent body was found spattered across the innermost chamber of the Hikari Art Museum, a result of Satoshi's curse's perverse possessive tendencies, and—in a strange way—of the same curse's self-preservation attempts. After nearly a week in the police morgue for a full coroner's report, the body was released to his family—that is, to Satoshi himself, and allowed proper burial. The funeral had followed, which many high-ranking and respected members of the community attended—and of course, the Niwas as well. Kosuke's words had imbued in him a silent respect that not even Niwa Daisuke had attained.

Those same respected community members, who apparently had had close ties to the elder Hiwatari, had also handed over the hefty sum to pay for the actual ground burial and funeral costs. Why the man couldn't simply be cremated and forgotten, memories blowing away in the wind like his ashes would, was beyond Satoshi, but for some reason…he was glad, right now, that he could say goodbye, even if it was to the cold gray tombstone bearing simply the kanji "Hiwatari Kei".

It was overcast and a bit chilly out today, and the morning weather report had forecast showers later that afternoon. Satoshi had a small black umbrella tucked under one arm, while in the other he held the plastic bag of the fake flowers. Setting it on the ground, he pulled out the stand and arrangement, carefully hammering the spike into the ground with his bare hands to steady them, and then secured them to the post. Settling back to rest on the balls of his feet as he squatted down in front of the stone epitaph, his eyes drifted to the side, as if avoiding focusing on the death right in front of his face.

"Why…"

His voice was soft, very nearly lost as it was blown away from his own lips by a sudden gust of blustery wind that swept through the cemetery. The plastic bag rolled like a tumbleweed off a few stones away, and Satoshi let it.

"Why…do you kill?"

Krad knew without asking that the question was directed at him. And yet, it was not his Tamer's usual voice that posed the question. The normal Satoshi would be fighting back his own powerful emotions, his anger, frustration, would have been reiterating that once again Krad had done what Krad wanted to do without any thought as to how it would hurt his precious host—even though this would have been a false preconception for the boy to have. They hadn't spoken a single word to one another since Satoshi had blown up at his curse after learning of Kei's murder, and so such a calm query was quite unexpected. The normal Satoshi would have probably yelled the question, or else spit it out with acidic disbelief and confusion. The normal Satoshi was never curious—if he wanted to know something, then he _demanded_ that he be told. But this Satoshi…

It was asked with genuine seeking of an answer…as if the Hikari child actually wanted to know what drove his curse to do what he did, why he carried out his duty with such maniacal glee, why he felt that a mere human threatened him to the point that that same human had to be disposed of, in short…

"Why do you kill…?" the solemnly curious voice asked again, still flat as before, with a bit more volume than the first time.

He was still resting on his heels, hands clasped before him as he settled folded elbows on his thighs, and didn't bat an eyelash when a pair of translucent white boots materialized in his peripheral vision, not even bending the blades of grass underfoot as they stepped nearer to him.

'_Why did I kill him, you want to know?'_

The pale blue hair fluttered feather-like in the breeze, and he shook his head slowly, moving a hand to fumble with the material at the hem of his deep-maroon school pants on his right leg. "Not just him…anyone…everyone… Why do they have to die?" He looked up at the grave and narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to focus on some faraway object that just eluded his sharp vision, "Is it…self-preservation, that they're threats…? Revenge? Just…a game, maybe? Do you even…see anyone beyond those you focus on as living beings, I wonder?"

'_Of course I do,'_ Krad spat out, a bit more harshly than he'd intended, and caught himself immediately, _'I see you_…_I see_…_'_ He couldn't quite verbalize what else he saw, though, so he answered the first question instead. _'I_…_the Niwa line has always been—'_

"Not just the Niwas…not even…not even Hiwatari…" He pushed himself up into a standing position, then turned his gaze to the blonde, face a blank slate, completely devoid of emotions—then it split into a wry smile. "It's not the first time, is it? You've done it, with Tamers before me, right? Killed?"

Once again, Krad was a bit unnerved by his host's abnormally calm behavior, and a frown flickered across his face before dissipating just as quickly as it had shown itself. For some reason, he felt compelled to avert his gaze, as if ashamed of his answer, _'I_…_Do you really think mine and Dark's hosts simply found requited love every generation and that was the end of it_…_? Of course I killed in times past_…_I had to_…_'_

Satoshi nodded slowly and closed his eyes, "Had to…yes…" He turned away and started walking back towards the gravel path that led to the main entrance. "And your own existence, after all, should be most precious to you, right…?"

Reaching out feebly, and grasping only air, Krad took a hesitant step forward before calling out to the retreating form, _'You're saying I'm wrong?'_

A loud crunch of gravel crackled through the still air, and Satoshi stopped in his tracks, hands having now found their way to their pockets, with the umbrella safely still tucked in the crook of his arm. He was so tired of this rambling that Krad never even listened to. "I'm saying that…you don't even know what's right…"

This threw Krad into a bit of heated shouting, frustrated with the strangely serene approach his host was showing him today, when he had every right to be angry. _'Then tell me—tell me, Satoshi-sama. What is right? What is right, what should I do? Throw away my Hikari duty, honor garnered over time? Forget my feud with Dark—forget the countless time's he's humbled me, has humbled our family? Would it please you to see me like yourself, apathetic to all change, immutable as that very gravestone?'_

Still Satoshi refused to falter, to revert to the paradigm that Krad kept in his mind. "No…I would have you never change—never change just because I asked you to…but because you truly wanted to change…"

Change…change…change _how_ was what Krad wanted to know. He sighed low and continued in the only manner that seemed fitting for their current location. _'What if_…_I said I was sorry_…_would that please you?'_

A harsh laugh. "How can you apologize…when you don't even know what it's for?" He finally turned around, tugging on the sleeves of his windbreaker as another gust whipped through the field. "There's more to 'I'm sorry' than simple words and will…there's a petition for forgiveness, genuine knowledge that what you did was wrong, and regretting of the action… Tell me, Krad—were he alive again, would you still kill him?"

It was apparent that the answer didn't need to be verbalized, and Satoshi shook his head, "See? You're only apologizing because you think I'm mad at you—not because you truly understand the implications of what you did. It's an empty apology. Like your own soul—empty, barren, and completely devoid of substance…"

Krad shrank away, pulse skipping a beat with the harsh words issued from still-smiling lips. _'Then_…_then rather than simply standing there laughing at me and telling me how worthless my whole existence is—rather than watching me all the time as I watch you, and hoping I fall somewhere along the way so you can sneer at how imperfect a being I really am, art though I may be—rather than—than killing me with your own thoughts, why don't you try something new and explain exactly what you think to me?'_ His voice had crescendoed into something just below a yell by the end of his spiel, though it had begun at something barely a whisper, fueled by the conflicting emotions Satoshi was drawing like well-water from the blonde.

Head whipping around at the demi-lecture and unusual display of emotion from his curse, Satoshi's blue eyes widened unconsciously, but he quickly clamped down on any gut emotions. "You don't…really understand, do you?"

'_All I understand is that which has been stoked in me for three hundred years, Hikari Satoshi-sama. First and foremost protect this family, protect my host, protect myself. Above anything else, this is my duty. Murder is a justifiable extension in most cases—'_

"But it's _not_, you don't understand that. In human terms…it's _never_ justifiable!" He clenched his fists, praying words would not fail him now. "Humans…we're…we're _mortal_… Life is short, fleeting, precious—not a petty gift to be freely given or taken. Not a plaything of higher beings. It's all we have that is truly our _own_. It's our souls, our essences, our very makeup, through which we justify our own right to exist in the universe. _No one_ has the right to take away another's right to justify his or her existence!"

Something churned in Krad's midsection, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling… Rather, he strongly suspected it was guilt, the sense that he'd just committed a most horrid crime, and he hadn't even realized it. _'Justify_…_one's existence_…_?'_

"Isn't that what you do, by battling Dark? By chasing Niwa? Give yourself a reason to exist, a purpose for your own life? That's _your_ immortality—you are reborn, generation after generation… Humans _aren't_. _I_…_I_ won't be… And not Hiwatari either… Life to a human is the greatest thing we possess…and by taking it from us…you're just as bad as Dark stealing the most precious Hikari treasure in our trove…"

As bad…as Dark? Satoshi-sama was comparing _him_…to a _Niwa_?

The blonde's face went slack and paled even more than its usual hue. His eyes were searching in vain for something—_any_thing to focus on, if only to divert attention from the realization plaguing his mind right then.

"You said you killed for me—that only makes me feel as if the blame really _is_ on me. That it's my fault someone else has been deprived of the chance to justify his existence… Hiwatari was…no, I didn't like him, but…I wouldn't have had this done to him if I had known of it… No one deserves to have this taken away…"

There was a stark pause, and it seemed as if he wanted to add something else, but Krad saved him the trouble. _'No one_…_but me is what you want to say, correct? That only those who would willingly and gladly deny another this gift actually deserve this fate, yes?'_

The grating crunch started up again, and Satoshi was walking forward towards the front gates.

"I don't…I don't want anyone to be denied, I don't think. I don't like seeing it that way… No one really deserves that…not even…not even _you_…despite everything you've done."

* * *

The clouds swirled overhead in an ominous black soup by the time Satoshi finally trudged out the front gates of the small graveyard, umbrella ready in his hands. In a span of thirty minutes, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and people beside him on the sidewalk as he marched back home up the hill were scurrying to their respective abodes to escape the impending downpour. Satoshi, though, saw no reason to hurry, as he had an umbrella, and took his time, slowly plodding along, oblivious to the hustle and bustle around him. 

The crowd that had herded along the sidewalks in the temple district he'd just left thinned out as he got into a more suburban area, though this could have been due to the fact that light sprinkles were beginning to dot the pavement, driving everyone indoors. He popped open the umbrella, and continued on, until he reached a small park.

Mothers and fathers were, at the moment, frantically calling their children away from their games to get home, with the approaching storm now almost upon them. The same children, though, saw no problem with continuing to play in the rain, and fought going home with all their might. Little boys held onto posts, little girls pleaded and whined to their parents; some cried, others played "catch me if you can"—an all-around typical park scene on a day that was less than perfect for playing.

Distantly, as he observed the seemingly benign scene, Satoshi wondered why he didn't recall any such memories from his own childhood—nothing came to mind when he tried to remember park play dates or outings with friends or anything like that.

Perhaps he didn't remember any of that…because he'd never experienced it. Childhood, after all, was a luxury he as the heir to the Hikari family curse hadn't been allowed.

Even so, though, he still felt a warm pleasant sensation pulsing in his chest as he watched the children splash through puddles that were now forming from the more-than-simple-drops that were falling from the sky, much to their parents' dismay. A smile tugged at his lips as one little boy in particular climbed to the highest point of a set of playground equipment, refusing to come down, until a bright flash of lightning nearly sent him toppling off in fright.

No, he'd never really been a child, no matter how small his body had been, or how underdeveloped his mind. He'd never been allowed that innocent mindset where one thinks oneself is invincible, where one wants to conquer the world with one's friends by their side. He'd never just _played_—there had always been a lesson embedded in every encounter he'd had with someone.

Even meeting Niwa, going to school with him, sharing the same classes with him, getting close to him…had all been in preparation of Dark's impending arrival.

Childhood was a lie that he'd abandoned—that's what he'd been taught, and that's what he still believed. And yet…looking at these children barely a third his age now…it was hard to believe that something like this could be…stupid.

These kids, though…of _course_ they were having wonderful times—their childhoods were not fraught with adults constantly looming over them, "guiding" and "monitoring" their progress, weren't followed down halls with whispered giggles as their classmates looked on in contempt, didn't feel eyes watching them everywhere, wondering what kind of a host he'd be for "Krad-sama".

For paradoxical as it was—or perhaps it was actually fitting—the same golden demon who drew such fear and caution from his family also drew a sort of awed pride as well. He was, after all, their best defense against the ravages of the Niwa clan. Sure, every twenty years or so he came around and made some poor fourteen-year-old boy's life a living hell, but the vast majority of the Hikari members weren't affected in any way by this. Krad was like the general of their army, fighting a war with dirty tactics that they tacitly approved, though outwardly appeared to admonish.

They feared him—feared he would turn against them one day, feared he would be their downfall one day, feared he would disappear one day. But more than they feared him, they _worshipped_ him. Krad-sama, beloved blood-line curse, they called him, awe dripping from their voices. That beautiful figure, so perfectly formed, flitting through a black sky on wings white as newly-fallen snow, but with blood-stained hands that betrayed his true persona every time.

No…he was the only one left who fully comprehended exactly what Krad was. Krad was…Krad was…

Krad was Krad.

He was Krad in the same way Dark was Dark—they were simply themselves, the way they'd been created. Not quite perfect, but damn close if they did say so themselves. At least, Dark would be one to take that view. Krad would never inject any element of doubt into the statement.

In fact…Krad was actually a lot like these children…Ignorant, unworldly in many ways…and yet he was different, in that he _did_ understand what was right and wrong, what was acceptable and unacceptable…or so he'd thought, before their conversation they'd just had back in the graveyard.

Did he believe him? Did he—no, _could_ he believe that Krad _actually_ thought that way? That killing in a self-preservation situation was always acceptable? That killing in many situations was acceptable? Could he accept Krad's shock at his pressing statement that one should never deprive another of their right to justify their existence? Could it really have been true? That Krad had never thought that way? And that something might…change…from this revelation?

Yes…so confusing, this curse of his…so confusing. Just like a child.

Absently, he wondered if Krad had ever actually experienced a childhood, or if his whole existence in itself had been a childhood of sorts.

'_No_…_'_ that familiar voice piped up softly, still wary of further admonishment, _'I was created as I am_… _I have no real existence, no birth, no childhood, nothing of that sort as you humans have. I simply_…_was.'_

Most of the children, by now, had been rounded up by their parents and were being herded under umbrellas or pushed towards cars, and the rain picked up in intensity—reluctantly, Satoshi continued home as well, now in an even drearier mood from the weather.

He would have liked to have watched the children for a little bit longer, he thought. It was always nice to be reminded of what he'd missed out on. Alright, perhaps it was more a pity-party, but still.

Yes, from the very start, he hadn't even had a chance to have a normal life. What was so special about him anyways that the Hikari elders had seen? Did he perhaps have some strange birthmark he wasn't privy to hidden somewhere on his body that all hosts had? How exactly had they known that he was the future host to this demon?

Or had his education in itself been a factor? No…no, the grand fools who were at the head of his clan were far too frugal to waste their precious time on a normal boy. He was _Hikari Satoshi-sama_…their precious once-in-a-generation egg that had to be cared for, coddled, and eventually molded and taught.

He was too precious an investment to be allowed to play with _normal_ children. What if he got ideas in his head about rebelling against his family? What if, heaven forbid, he went out _not even knowing_ of his curse, like that stupid Niwa child the girl Emiko and Dark's previous host Daiki were raising?

Shut off from the world, treated like a lab rat—that was his fate as a Hikari…

Wait…

His fate as a Hikari?

Was that…really his fate as a _Hikari_? He recalled vaguely whispers from his professors, both at the Academy and in high school and college—that he just wasn't a normal child, that eight-year-olds shouldn't be in high school, that thirteen-year-olds shouldn't be in college, that he was a fabulous freak that only the illustrious Hikari clan could produce…

But was it really because he was a Hikari? Part of him wanted to staunchly snap that his mind had _nothing_ to do with his Hikari blood—that it was one thing that belonged to him and him alone, his intelligence, his shrewdness, his cold calculating mannerisms that made him an able head of police in charge of countermeasures against Dark.

_Part_ of him wanted to admit it…

The other part knew that if he admitted _that_, if he held on firmly to _that_, he'd have to admit something else as well…

That from the very beginning, he'd been doomed to such a life as he led.

He was a genius, that much was obvious—but was he a genius because he was simply Satoshi…or because he was _Hikari_ Satoshi? Had he not been raised his whole life to be the best of their family? Had he not been pampered and waited on, spoiled and indulged because of what he was to become?

Was he not now one of the most intelligent people he knew—because of his raising?

Well? Was he, or wasn't he? What was the reasoning behind his status?

Had he been born a natural genius? The first part that wanted to take all the credit seemed to think so—that his being a Hikari had nothing to do with it.

But if he accepted that as the gospel truth…then it had all been for nothing, all these years of hating his family…

For then he would have always been fated to be alone, to be an outcast. Even if he hadn't been a Hikari member, if he hadn't even heard of Azumano No. 2 Junior High, if Niwa Daisuke was just another faceless name to him…

He could never have been like those children. It was just a pipe dream…His life was miserable, would have always been miserable no matter what…and there was nothing he could have done that would have made it different.

He would have always been shunned at school, even if he'd stayed with his normal classmates in his normal appropriate grade. He would have craved knowledge and had it denied him by the coddling Japanese school system always catering to the lowest on the academic rung and leaving the over-achievers to flounder in boredom. Would have been, still, socially isolated by his intelligence, one way or another.

With or without a curse, he was inherently damned.

"What would my life have been like…" he whispered in confused shock, "…if I hadn't been born a Hikari…?" If he'd been paying attention, he might have felt Krad stir a bit inside his mind, but as his curse didn't make any comment at this point, he continued on speaking to himself, trying to discern just what was going on.

"…Would Niwa and I still be friends? Would I even _know_ him? Would I…would I be popular? Would I have a real family—a family who actually cared for me, not for…whatever might be locked inside me?"

He stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk. There was no one around at this point to stare at him, and the umbrella slowly dropped from his grip, sliding onto the pavement and opening Satoshi up to the weather's ravages. He didn't care at this point, though, he just wanted to know, "…_Could_ it have ever been different! Was I always…always…_damned_…?"

Damned for being born, that's what he was. Cursed—but not by Krad. No…Krad wasn't his curse; Krad wasn't _his_ curse…not at all!

_His_ curse…_his_ fate…was to be alone. Always, forever, on his own, with no one to pick him up when he fell, with no one to cheer him on when he faltered, with no one to hold him when he cried and wanted arms around him so badly…

Always alone…always alone…always…

…Alone?

Or was that exactly the problem…that he was _never_ alone? Wasn't that what he'd been wishing for all this time since Krad had manifested? That he'd just be left alone? _Wasn't_ it?

Didn't he hate that grating golden voice perpetually present in his subconscious? Didn't he always wish it would shut up and leave him in peace? Didn't he just want to live in silence? _Didn't he_!

"No…!" he spoke aloud, unintentionally, "…I _don't_…I don't want that…"

But—that didn't erase the fact that on numerous occasions he'd thought exactly that: if only he'd shut up, if only he'd leave, if only he hadn't come to _me_, if only he hadn't cursed _me_…

Then I'd be all alone.

Yes, that was exactly what he'd thought all those times. But…if Krad _hadn't_ come to him…he _would_ be alone. And he absolutely didn't want that! That was his curse, after all, to be alone—and even Krad couldn't help that!

_I will always be with you, Satoshi-sama_…or so the voice had told him on numerous occasions, in a less-than-loving tone, one that almost threatened him and burned into his mind an image of the same haughty smile the blonde always wore around him. _You cannot make me go away_…

But he didn't _want_ him to go away—!

_YES HE DID_!

"I—no!"

Well? Could he not even make up his mind? Did he or did he not want Krad in his head? Did he or did he not want to be left alone? To _be_ alone?

…Gods, he hoped Krad wasn't paying attention right now…

* * *

Luckily enough for him, Krad _wasn't_ paying attention, because catching little snippets of Satoshi's thoughts in the past fifteen minutes or so had sent him on his own mental train ride. 

The momentary lifting of his spirits brought about by Satoshi-sama wondering about something from his past had worn off—replaced by memories of the same past Satoshi had been wondering about.

No, it wasn't a trip down memory lane, rather, it was a comparison of sorts; he always took the opportunity with a new host to sit back and reflect on how this new one stacked up against the rest. What were his strengths, his weaknesses, his personality, was he shy—outgoing? And he would judge his new Tamer in this way against all previous ones, find their flaws, and inherently dwell on them.

Forever in his mind was that gleaming ideal host, the one he'd dreamed of since his incarnation…Quiet, passive, self-isolated, accepting, everything that was conducive to his having complete control over the body even when he didn't manifest—that was his paragon that none could reach…until this generation.

Satoshi was like a god-send—a perfect Hikari, a perfect host, perfect for claiming as Krad's own… For no one else would ever lay a finger on his precious Tamer, not now that he'd finally found such a specimen as he'd always been searching since his first incarnation.

It was for this reason that he jealously guarded the boy from all outside contact, constantly crooning inside his head that he was Krad's and Krad's alone, that no one else was permitted to have him. For if anyone else should spoil him, dirty him, sully him, then Krad would be…unhappy.

So he killed. Hurt, maimed, injured, disposed of anything and everything that "threatened" him—that "threatened" his Satoshi-sama. For hurting one would inevitably hurt the other as well, it was just how they lived.

Up until now, he hadn't minded hurting his hosts—they weren't perfect, it didn't matter that they were in pain, or that they hated him, or that they wished he'd die and leave them to live their lives on in peace. He would have sooner wished the same on them if it weren't for the fact that _he_ was dependent on _them_.

Then came Satoshi, who had to go and blow all his plans out of phase. Had to be passive and apathetic, had to not care about any family honor or whatever Krad fought for. He was shy and quiet, neither wanting nor needing relationships of any sort (or so he claimed—the incident with Niwa Daisuke attested against this), and Krad found this quite conducive to his existence—as expected from the one who had turned out to be the perfect host so far.

Until something happened that shouldn't have, and he started _wanting_ the boy to respond somehow. And Satoshi did—quite violently, too. He did not want to be cursed by Krad, and he made this known in loud vocalizations whenever the blonde had tried to start a conversation. When conversing didn't work, he instead resorted to forcibly taking what he wanted.

When he wanted a distraction, he manifested forcefully and fought Dark; when he wanted company, he projected and watched the boy until Satoshi grew tired of fighting Krad's gaze; and when he wanted pleasure, he retreated into his worlds of fantasy locked away in his consciousness where Satoshi's waking mind could not tread.

He did all this without caring what the boy thought. Sometimes Tamers themselves had to be tamed, even one so beautiful and pristine as Hikari Satoshi. He would never—_could_ never—physically hurt him, but there were so many ways to wound a being without even laying a finger on them, this Krad knew well.

He'd had to do it before, with Tamers who were just a bit too willful and self-reliant—teaching them that though they as the Host were there first, that body was _his_ as well. And one by one they had all fallen, eventually giving in and ceding some bit of control to their curse.

Yes, he was a virus, an infection, an invading force in their bodies, but they _had_ to accept him or live forever in the pain that came from their minds rejecting him.

That was _his_ true purpose: not to kill any Niwas, not to stop Dark, not to protect Hikari treasures. But to cause pain. To the Niwa clan, to his hosts, to anyone who dared get in his way; he was to stop them all with the utmost force possible and teach them that _none_ crossed Krad of the Hikari and survived unscathed.

His purpose, his fate, was to cause misery to anyone near him, no matter if he loved or hated them—though it was always easier when he hated them. He had, in fact, never loved, so it had always been easy.

Until he was reborn this generation in this perfect host body—never had he felt so strong a bond to a Tamer as this boy Satoshi. "Wise" his name meant…and he was indeed. Krad had watched him grow, from behind locked Astral doors that would not open to let him invade that sharp mind until the fateful fourteenth year struck. Watched him surpass adults in genius, breeze through the Japanese educational system, and gain a prominent position to fight Dark, all in preparation for _his_ arrival.

It wasn't love. What he felt for his host when he realized what he'd stumbled into was far from that. It was lust, base desire—that body was all open to him now, his for the taking and using. Apathetic, passive, introverted, isolated—through and through a perfect host. Perfect for _him_.

Then that day—so long ago? Or had it only been just the other day? The human timetables seemed to run together after so long. That day…when his host had taken down all his barriers and opened himself up to—of _all_ people—the _Niwa_ boy.

That was the first time that Krad had truly felt sorrow.

No matter that it wasn't his own at the time—it was a stale echo from his host's heart, wracking his consciousness with sobs he couldn't comprehend. It was then that he began to understand what it was like to be hurt like this—hurt like _he'd_ hurt his other hosts, like he'd hurt Satoshi so many times.

And so, at the grave, confronted with Satoshi's remarks, he solemnly swore he would not, so long as he could manage it, hurt the boy again. Emotionally, physically, mentally—in any way.

It was his purpose—to hurt others.

So he would change, as Satoshi-sama wanted him to—on his own, of his free will. He would go against his purpose, his fate to hurt others.

For Satoshi had been the one to make him realize exactly what to be hurt _was_—how it felt, how it tortured, how it seared the mind with sorrow and braised the skin with misery. That was everything he was: pain.

'_But I_…_I don't want that to be it! I want_…_I want a purpose beyond simply making a life miserable! Especially_…_the life of the one who woke me_…_'_

He had purpose—he did! Dark was still—still…Dark really meant nothing, simply a manifestation of the bad blood that still ran between the houses. _Dark_ didn't exist to pain his hosts, seeing their relationships was evidence enough of that. So why did _he_ have to exist for that reason?

He didn't, that's why!

Or, at least, he was bound and determined to prove that. Satoshi-sama had even said that he deserved the chance to justify his existence too! He would give him a reason—either a new reason to hate his curse, or a reason to accept it. But either way, he would no longer live to hurt his precious Tamer.

…Gods, he hoped Satoshi-sama wasn't paying attention right now…

* * *

_Author's Note_: And fun times abound. Just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who's reviewed—it really lets me know that I didn't slave away on this thing just for my own pleasure, that others enjoy it as well. I hope to continue to surprise you all as we head towards the end of the story (yes, we're on the downhill slide now!). Ah, and regarding the ring Kosuke gives to Satoshi—he actually does give him this gift in the manga (Book 9—under different circumstances), for the same purpose as stated above. Quite a nifty little bit of jewelry. Update in one week! 


	9. Lessons Taught

_Galatea_

_Ninth Movement: Lessons Taught_

"Much as we may wish to make a new beginning,  
some part of us resists doing so,  
as though we were making the first step toward disaster."

_William Bridges_

* * *

Satoshi hated being confused. 

He hated that lukewarm, tepid state that held one prisoner of one's own thoughts. He loathed the tentative, sickening vacillation of the mind, while one decided, "Should I go down This Road, or perhaps take That Path?" And he absolutely _detested_ weighing out possible consequences.

Staring at the image on the front page of the _Azumano Weekly_, he remembered just how _much_ he hated being confused. For he had no earthly idea how to deal with the front-page story: Dark's latest advance notice.

Apparently Niwa Daisuke's period of being grounded was over, and his mother had him back in the family business. He cursed softly—those Niwas seemed to almost enjoy seeking out new ways to make his life miserable.

Letting his head sink down and rest in his palms, he sighed softly—his dilemma was one he hadn't counted on being faced with when he'd broken off his compromise with Krad.

Not that he truly regretted it—the blonde had committed an unspeakably heinous crime, had brutally murdered his foster father with what Satoshi conjectured had been maniacal glee, and hadn't even been the least bit remorseful for it, only offering weak excuses to shift the blame. Satoshi had been utterly furious, frustrated beyond words, and had sought his revenge in the only way he knew how—by tossing out their agreement that he would let his curse out to fight Dark provided Krad not kill the thief.

It had been a rash action, and one that had served its purpose—it had actually made the blonde _think_ about what he'd done, about why he was being "punished."

Then Satoshi had to go and do something stupid like wondering aloud _why_ Krad had killed, instead of simply writing it off as normal behavior and resolving to never cooperate with his curse again. He had to go and give the demon a chance to redeem himself…had to go and actually be _surprised _at the response…

_Dammit_…

So here he was, confused. On one hand, Krad was an arrogant bastard with homicidal tendencies who cared about precious little beyond his clan and felt that murder was a justifiable method of disposing of obstacles. On the other…Krad had been bred into the Hikari bloodline with no morals, no qualms—a perfect antithesis to the Niwas' Dark, and it was now debatable in Satoshi's mind whether or not he could be faulted for this.

He wanted to hate Krad like before—it had been so beautifully simple. Krad was Krad; hate him and fear him. Dark was Dark; respect him and fight him. Make no deals with Krad and you won't be backstabbed. Don't get on too friendly terms with Dark—or Dark's host, for that matter—and you won't regret having to seal him.

And he did—he did still despise Krad and his twisted logic…but now there was a niggling little bit of morality poking him from the back of his mind, as if it were Krad himself. He _couldn't_ just blow this off, not even his own curse! Not when…they were so similar.

Both had been forced into molds, not allowed to explore their own existences and beings. The Hikari curse had been forged just as he was, living and believing the same things from generation to generation, never getting his ethics calibrated—a prisoner of his own ignorance.

Satoshi…was a prisoner of his own intelligence. And as a fellow prisoner, that meant he knew how it felt to be pigeonholed into a niche, never allowed to move freely, to explore himself and his feelings. He detested that feeling of confinement just as much as he detested being confused.

How did it feel…to Krad?

Had his curse squirmed mentally at the realization of just how _wrong_ his actions had been? Had that tremor of guilt that had wracked his host's body actually been a byproduct of the blonde's own feelings?

Could Satoshi…_should_ Satoshi…give him the chance…to redeem himself?

It was utterly ridiculous to even be entertaining such a notion—Krad had _murdered_! Hadn't shown even the slightest remorse until he'd had his compromise taken away!

But those emotions that had streamed into him at the gravesite the week before… They had been genuine—his curse had truly not understood the gravity of his crime, and didn't that mean that…that maybe he merited at least the _chance_ to show his true self…?

…Did that mean that Satoshi actually wanted to see that true self?

'_You think too much, Satoshi-sama_…_ I cannot sleep a wink with all your chatter.'_

Satoshi sat straight up, head at attention, before relaxing again after realizing the blonde had just probably been woken up by the errant brainwaves as his host debated just how to handle his current situation. He swiftly folded up the paper before Krad caught sight of it and stretched out on the couch, an arm slung over his face.

Krad settled back into his corner—he hadn't actually been asleep. He'd been contentedly eavesdropping on his Tamer's mental soliloquy with nothing short of awe and wonder. Never—_never _had his Satoshi-sama gifted him such deep thoughts. It thrilled him to the very core that the boy had actually considered their graveside conversation and was making a concerted effort to understand his curse better.

He desperately wanted to urge his host on, to inform him of his own decision not to hurt him anymore, and pray that such a confession might serve as recompense for his horrific crimes and enable them to start anew…but he knew that such an action would be disastrous. Satoshi needed to make this decision on his own or not at all. Noting with a frown the paper on the coffee table, he prayed it would be the former.

"…Krad, come out here." Not even his snappish order could conceal the quiver of nervousness that was laced in his voice. The blonde hastily complied, slipping into existence behind the couch to stare down at the boy, Astral pumping furiously through his anxious being. Satoshi didn't remove his arm to even see if his curse had manifested, and gave a low sigh of concession.

"…Tell me what you want to do." A pause. "Tell me now, tell me your terms, and then…tell me why I should even deign to consider your stupid request."

My, but Satoshi _did_ seem to enjoy his position as Krad's master—in name, at least, if not always in form—from time to time. The blonde was silent in contemplation, gathering his wild thoughts and stringing them into lines of coherent conversation, then took a deep breath:

'_I wish to reinstate our compromise—I wish you to allow me to fight Dark on nights he sends out his advance notices. Fight, with your permission—but not to kill. Him, or anyone else.'_ He was actually proud of himself for adding in as his own term that which had been Satoshi's stipulation originally. _'As to why you should consider_…_' _The boy moved his arm away and actually looked up at Krad now, quite curious as to what pathetic excuse the being would muster.

'_You shouldn't.' _Dark blue eyes blinked a few times in rapid succession—_that_ had been unexpected. _'You've no reason to make this pact with me a second time_…_and so I wish you to allow me to give you one—a reason to trust me. Deep down, I know, you do not truly make this accord of your own free will. You do it of a sense of obligation, so there is no reason I could possibly supply that would convince you that this is anything but a matter of just that. You hold the high ground, Satoshi-sama. I can but yield to your ultimate will.'_

Satoshi blinked again and shuddered at the unusually passive attitude his curse was exhibiting. He caught himself after a moment and coolly replied, "You could just take my body as you've done in the past. When I consider it, I still see no reason for you to suggest this comprom—"

'_I will do no such thing. As I said before—you may not know of my reasoning, but rest assured I do have it. Do not doubt my sincerity_…_please.'_

The boy quickly turned his gaze away from the golden orbs boring into him, and a strange feeling that Krad had been privy to his earlier internal monologuesettled over him.

"I really don't know why I'm doing this," he lied to himself, and pressed onward with a defeated sigh. "Whatever. You have three advance notices to prove yourself—Dark's next job is on Friday evening." He shot a cold glare at Krad. "You barely lasted _one_ notice last time—we'll see how much better you fare this go 'round."

_Please don't make me regret this again_…

Satoshi hated regretting, too. But at least he wasn't as confused now.

* * *

Like a some huge white wounded bird, the wings fluttered pathetically as they pummeled the air furiously to keep their master aloft, faltering every few feet and nearly sending their burden plummeting to the earth far below. Exhausted beyond mortal measure, Krad strained with what was left of his strength to push himself through the starless night sky to his resting place—the apartment, where he could find refuge and respite. 

His shadow passed over the pale moon in the blink of an eye, and his fatigued form cast shadows of its own over the world sleeping below him, ignorant to the battle he'd just waged with his antithesis.

A nearly audible sigh of appreciation passed over his lips, and he almost broke down in relieved laughter when he spotted the nearing balcony he'd alighted on every time before, slipping to his knees the moment his boots settled onto the cold concrete, great white wings forming a protective tent over him.

He leaned forward and heaved in combined pain and exhaustion, completely spent. Sheer will had been all that had kept him aloft up to this point—the knowledge that any stray wind current would have ended not only _his_ existence, but the all-too-short existence of his host as well. And it was this same host who now took the opportunity to reprimand his curse—an action he'd held off since the evening's battle, waiting until they reached Satoshi's apartment.

'_I told you you shouldn't underestimate him—haven't you been paying attention at all when I fought? By now I would have thought you'd know all his moves for all the years you've been fighting him. And combined with Niwa he's got more power this incarnation. You shouldn't_…_'_ He trailed off, _'Are you even listening to me? Krad?'_

"Yes…yes… Of course I'm…I'm listening…" His response was forced and flat, as if he wasn't even focusing on the words coming out of his mouth, thoughts elsewhere. The sentence was raspy and punctuated with long pauses as Krad drew in one shaky breath after another, dispirited wings stretching open and folding back in pitifully, rendering him an appearance all the more likened to a fallen angel. He hissed in pain and fell forward onto one hand, with the other clenching tightly the material over his heart, squeezing the fabric as if it were the neck of a Niwa.

'_Krad, what're you—ah, AH! Wha—what'd he do to you!' _The mental voice cried out, reflecting the fear and panic which had streamed from the Tamed into his astral Tamer, side effects of the peculiar wound Dark had inflicted upon his nemesis in a lucky strike, ripping out a large clump of astral threads anchored in his upper pectoral area.

It felt…Krad did not know what to liken it to in human terms…but for him, it was the equivalent of feeling the Niwa curse reach into his very soul and rip into it, wrenching off a chunk by the roots, opening him up to the cold of the world, and leaving a gaping wound behind as recompense.

"Damn_ Niwas_…" he cursed softly, eventually mustering the strength to haul his ragged body into the sanctuary of the dark apartment, where a bed more comfortable than this cold balcony awaited. He nudged the window open with one shoulder, folding his wings close to his body before stumbling drunkenly into the bedroom, the pale moonlight his only guide. Once inside, he paused a moment and muttered a destabilizing spell, sending the wings back into the dark astral vortex he'd summoned them from, then fell, defeated, onto the mattress.

'_Krad,'_ the familiar voice called again, having allowed his curse to settle down inside the room before pressing him for an explanation. The physical pain had been minimal—and he usually couldn't really sense the astral pain inflicted upon Krad, though the reason for this he could not explain.

But whatever Dark had done to Krad tonight, it had ruptured the phantom barrier which had been erected between himself and his curse, and when the blonde had broken down on the balcony, finally embracing the wound, he too had felt it resonate within himself. After a moment, when no response was issued him, he called again, this time a bit more urgent, _'Krad_…_'_

Like a small child not wanting to be woken up by his parent, Krad feebly covered his ears, eyes shut tight, willing away the voice in his head. "Just…leave me be for a moment, Satoshi-sama…just for a moment… I'll be…fine…"

A moment turned to five minutes, then ten, then stretched to fifteen, until Satoshi began to wonder—from the steady peak and descent of Krad's mental waves—if his curse hadn't actually _fallen asleep_ while regaining his strength. Just as he was about to call again, ready to have his own body back, he was saved the trouble when a weary voice spoke out to him.

"S…Satoshi-sama…" This was not the tinkling golden voice that so often grated his last nerves, not the sound that mirrored a set of high mountain wind chimes, transmitting its smile across time and space until it seared his consciousness and it was all he could think of. _This_ voice…could not belong to Krad. It was exhausted, defeated, fragile, and ephemeral as a thought of rain on a blazing summer day. It was…so very human, that Satoshi found it difficult to respond.

'…_I'm here_…_'_ What kind of reply was that? Of _course_ he would be there, he chided himself. This fact, however, didn't seem to bother Krad, who continued on undeterred.

"Satoshi-sama…I need you to do something for me…" The voice now seemed to be pulling back to normal, waxing nervous almost, hesitant to beg a favor from his usually disinclined host. "Please."

_Please_? Satoshi would have laughed under any other circumstances to hear the words flow so deliciously from the lips of his curse. It was without order, without command, without any sort of jussive tone, it was…beseeching. A hint of desperation, faint hope, the entreaty to not be turned away…it was _thrilling_.

Or at least it would have been. As he'd said, under any other circumstances. Now…it was frightening.

'_All_…_all right_…_what is it?'_ he tested warily, unsure of how best to respond.

He could feel Krad's body being pushed up into an upright position, could sense it leaning forward with his elbows resting shakily on his knees as he swayed unsteadily near the edge of the mattress. "I need…I need you to project an astral image of yourself…I need to see you…"

'_Wha—see me? Why? And I can't project myself—only you can do th—'_

"Just…_listen_…" He raised gloved fingers to his temples and wearily massaged himself, eyes shut tight in concentration. "I need to see the damage Dark did…but I don't have the power to turn back right now—I used too much earlier…and even if I did scrounge up enough for the transformation I couldn't pull up _more_ to project my own image. So…I need you to do it…and you _can_…all hosts can. Even that Niwa boy can, if he knew how. There's usually no need for a host to learn projection, so they never do…" He stopped massaging and cracked his eyes open, staring down at the hardwood floor beneath his feet. "…I can help you, talk you through…but _please_…you can feel it too, it _hurts_…and I can't do anything about it until I know exactly what went wrong…"

Satoshi mentally gulped—this wasn't what he'd had in mind when Krad had asked for his cooperation. It was surreal, to have the tables turned this way. It was usually _him_ sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed, entreating his curse not to interfere in any way, to leave him be; yet here he was, all but _begging_ him for his power, for his help.

…Then, that showed how very different they both were. Satoshi responded to pressure by pressing back. And Krad…he responded by seeking aid in relieving the pressure, seeking _Satoshi's_ aid in particular.

'_I_…_I'll try_…_'_

"Thank you…" was the whispered phrase of relieved gratitude.

* * *

'…_That's all I have to do?'_ Satoshi's voice was almost incredulous as he digested Krad's carefully explained instructions, and he was returned an affirmative answer. _'So all I have to do is simply visualize myself outside of this body_…_and I'll project my image?'_

"Do you find it that difficult a concept to grasp, Satoshi-sama? Or is it that it's too _simple_?" Krad could still, even as weak as he was at the moment, manage some sarcasm for his host.

The boy released a mental growl. _'It's not that—just_…_if it's so simple, why can't you do it right now? What were you babbling on about having to scrape together your power?'_

Krad sighed, wincing at the pain in his chest as he eased to the edge of the bed, legs dangling over onto the floor. "Because it's _not_ that simple in the doing—not for normal humans at least. You understand well that most of the inhabitants of this planet have less astral power than could fit on the head of a pin, let alone any knowledge on how to gather it, control it, mold it for their own uses. _You_ are better off, with a considerable amount of your own thanks to your bloodline, but you too lack knowledge of how to use it. Without proper control and manipulation of it, you couldn't hold an astral image for very long—and even _with_ control…your level won't sustain form for…I'd not wager over a minute, perhaps another thirty seconds if you strain yourself.

"Projecting yourself is a marriage of power and control: without one or the other, it is an unachievable task."

'_Then_…_how exactly am I going to do this? You just said even if I manage the control, I won't be able to sustain it for long anyway.'_

"I did say that…" he admitted, "And so, I'm going to gather what is left of my astral energies and feed them through to you, a lifeline if you will… It should be…enough. Enough to let you hold the image long enough for me to assess the damage—"

'_NO!' _was the cry of abject refusal from his Tamer, and Krad's eyes snapped open, concentration broken, _'No—you can't do that! Look how weak you are already! And you want to just throw more power away! No, we'll just_…_why can't I use what energy I have and just settle for a minute time limit? You're positive that won't be enough?'_

"It's not that it wouldn't be enough…but…I've never tried it with a Tamer before… If I miscalculated, if you overdrew your powers…it could leave you broken beyond repair…and I _refuse_ to risk that with you. I'd rather risk _my_ existence than yours, and retain the liability for myself."

'_Always were a possessive jerk_…_keeping all the fault for yourself,' _Satoshi commented softly, but it was clear it was his failed attempt at lightening the atmosphere around the two, _'Why, though_…_would you do that?'_

"Satoshi-sama," he began gravely, "It is both my solemn duty and fervent desire to aid my Tamer in any way I can—it has been so for three centuries."

A harsh laugh, and the boy retorted, _'I thought your purpose was to kill Dark and Niwa.'_

With a grim smile lingering upon his lips, Krad corrected him. "No…that is _your_ purpose."

There was a deep silence in his head for a moment as Satoshi processed the information, an aspect of his life he hadn't previously addressed, _'_…_What did you say? When and where did it become my duty to kill not only Dark but Niwa as well?'_

"It is your purpose, blood-asserted and flesh-confirmed, to wipe from existence that which should never have existed in the first place—namely Dark and the Niwas whose actions pulled him into being. And I aid you, lend you my power, however much you may require of me…and should you become either unable or unwilling to carry it out, I am to take it upon myself to shoulder your burden."

Satoshi's mental tone was acrid and stung Krad's already-wounded consciousness. _'Oh, a burden is it?'_

Silence pervaded the darkness between them for a moment, before the blonde replied softly, "…You have no idea…"

* * *

'_Alright_…_I think_…_I think I'm ready to try_…_'_

"Satoshi-sama, there can be no 'trying' here. It is either done correctly the first time or we fail altogether. I…I cannot manage this a second time, understand that. I'm pushing my own boundaries to do it now, but you _need_ this energy to keep the image steady, so…please, concentrate…"

The Hikari boy closed off his mind to Krad's thoughts as best he could, shutting off any interferences from the outside world, and turned his consciousness inwards to his own formless identity inside the void which was Krad's own mind. _'A form_…_a form_…_please let me get this right_…_'_ he chanted to himself softly, and his spirits lifted when a faint line flickered into view. He held onto the line for dear life as if it were a rope thrown to him during a storm at sea, and slowly began molding it.

'_Like me_…_make it like me_…_just visualize my own body, and mold this line to be like me_…_'_ In his memories, he pulled up image after image of himself, pounding the line with information, _'Hiwatari Satoshi_…_Hikari Satoshi_…_this is me, make it like me, be me.'_

Krad flicked his eyes open, gold flashing in the night, and registered before him the faint flickering on and off of the slender body plan of his host, astral attire appearing surprisingly too big on him, long sleeves seeming to stretch down over his thin wrists, covering his hands. After flaring in and out of existence a few more times, the image finally established a constant state and blazed brightly in the darkened room.

Satoshi barely had a few moments to look down at his newly formed astral hands before he felt control over the image slipping from his grasp, and his voice crackled, _'Krad—I can't—'_

"Hold it tightly as you can, Satoshi-sama," he grunted, placing a finger on either temple and squeezing shut his eyes again. He pooled what energy he could gather quickly and fed an invisible line into the now brightly blazing image Satoshi had created.

As if attesting to the influx of a greater source of power than the Hikari boy could possibly muster, his aura spiked in brilliance and the very same feathery appendages which had recently been banished back to the astral plane by Krad resurfaced from Satoshi's back, sheltering the child in his place.

"_Satoshi_…_sama_…" Krad breathed in awe when he opened his eyes again and beheld the sidereal vision before him, and nearly whimpered in humility. He sank to his knees as if before a god, and the boy narrowed his eyes in confusion, taking a tentative step back. "If you could only _see yourself_…you are an _angel_, Satoshi-sama…"

His host's face washed free of the confusion, and instead adopted an almost innocent expression, curious now at the new body he was in, and he twisted his head to and fro to look himself over—particularly interested in the princely snow-white wings which were a full head taller than himself, even when they were bent in half at rest as they were. No—now was not the time to worry about Krad, he had to be more open, because he _was_ vulnerable…

Allowing himself to be taken and molded and taught, to try and help one who'd been so hateful to him in the past, it was unfeasible for him to try and be the regular Satoshi he projected to everyone else… Tonight, right now…he had to be pure and uncontaminated, free from false pretenses. And so he indulged himself and behaved like a child with a new toy, fascinated with this new development.

A full minute passed before he suddenly remembered that time was _not_ on their side for the moment—that every second wasted was another second Krad had to work to keep their line of energy flow open, and he quickly turned back to face the blonde kneeling in front of him. His face could not conceal the pride he felt at accomplishing a task he'd previously thought was reserved for Dark and Krad, yet another perk of their parasitic existences, but this was phenomenal! He beamed happily, unable to tone his elation down.

That is, until he saw Krad's face. It was contorted into a twisted mixture of confusion, shock, and abject horror, wide-open eyes all but indistinguishable from his pallid, whitewashed face.

Worry inching its way across his own face, Satoshi slowly turned his gaze down to his chest, as if noticing it for the first time. And had he been in control of his own body, he might have vomited then and there.

The fabric covering the area right over his heart was a shredded bloody mess, dripping silvery astral-life blood from a gaping wound of light, still-fresh gore glistering in the surreal light he cast.

He didn't…know how to react—it didn't _hurt_! It was just there—he could look at it, see the wound penetrating deep into his chest cavity, could even sense the gentle pulse of his heart, opened to the world, and it churned his consciousness with the sickening knowledge that it was _wrong_. It should be killing him, this wound—he should be rolling on the floor, screeching in pain, tears streaming down flushed cheeks, begging for it to stop…but he wasn't…

No, surely there was no way this could be real—could it? Perhaps it was an image he'd conjured up unwittingly…Tentatively, to test his theory, he reached a trembling finger up and brushed a fingertip across the wound, sending a sensation akin to an electric jolt through his form. In perfect follow-up to the action Krad released a pitiable cry and fell forward awkwardly, catching the brunt of the force with a shoulder as he struggled to pull himself back upright, chest twinging viciously.

Satoshi immediately pulled his hand back in surprise at Krad's shout, taking an anxious step back as worry glazed over his thoughts again. _'Wha_…_What is this?'_

Krad didn't answer immediately, struggling on his own to push himself back up onto his knees, still seated on the floor in front of his host. He raised a tremulous hand to his head as if seeking to stop the spinning room, shaking his head.

No, no, _no_…no, this was _wrong_…Krad couldn't understand it—didn't _want_ to understand it, even though he was the only one at this point who had any idea why it had happened. Satoshi continued to demand an explanation of him, but he easily shut off the mental entreaties from his host and slipped into his astral void, babbling to himself.

"I broke the promise…my promise to Satoshi-sama…that I would never hurt him again…"

Growing increasingly perturbed at being ignored when something was _definitely_ needing to be explained to him, Satoshi finally let out an annoyed growl and lunged forward to shake Krad from his self-induced stupor—only to learn the hard way the worst part of being astral: you are mere thought and will, nothing more. You have no true form, you have no power over the living, you cannot touch, you cannot feel. A lesson Krad registered at least once a day, relearning it in malicious repetition.

The futile act, though, served its purpose well enough, and Krad looked up right into the frightened clear blue eyes of his Tamer, begging for an explanation, and smiled so forlornly even a blind man would not have thought him sincere.

"…I'm sorry, Satoshi-sama…" His eyes glittered as if they truly were made of precious gold ore, and he struggled in vain to blink away the unshed tears that were so new to him, reaching a shaking hand forward to cup the chin of his Tamer that did not exist, "_So sorry_…I couldn't…I couldn't stop him, I couldn't save you…I _failed_ you…"

Satoshi pulled back from the strange sensation of unfeeling, still confused at how serious his curse was acting—after all, it wasn't as if Krad hadn't been hurt before, even so serious a blow. _'But, it's_…_I'm fine—it doesn't even hurt, you know. I can't feel it. It's only your body that he injured, even if it looks bad on me_…_You said yourself that this is only a reflection of your own astral form_…_'_ Try as he might to be moderately comforting, his words—as always—came off considerably harsher than he'd meant them too, and he inwardly cringed at his own tone.

Krad, though, simply shook his head sadly. "No…you don't feel it…but he _did_ hurt you…he hurt you…_so badly_…" He lowered his head and his shoulders shook pathetically, with his long golden hair pooling at his feet.

'_I told you, I'm fine,'_ he repeated, growing annoyed with Krad's insisting that he'd been injured in the fight. _'Stop worrying about it when nothing happened—you'll_…_you'll have other chances to get him_…_'_ It felt strange almost to be encouraging Krad this way, reminding him that he'd have other opportunities to try and maim an elusive phantom thief whom he'd rather not see dead.

The shoulders stopped shaking, and he raised his head, gaze dark and stormy, flashing maliciously, "That may be true for me…but _you_ may not." Satoshi's brows knit anxiously. "That wound…he made it when he ripped out that clump of my astral threads, you know…but that's not something that poses anything of a worry to me. It simply hurts a damn lot—they'll regrow…in time. Always have.

"But for humans…for humans, they will not regenerate. These are your _life threads_—once they are lost, then they are gone _forever_. You cannot gain them back by any means."

'_And_…_what does that mean then?'_

"It means, Satoshi-sama…it means that by stripping you of those threads…he's stripped you of years of your _life_—and by the damage he inflicted I'd wager at least ten, possibly even _twenty_."

All the blood drained from his face as if his throat had just been sliced open—turning the same sickening shade Krad's had upon first seeing the wound. Shaking his head, he tried to laugh off the statement in disbelief. _'No, that_…_that can't be true. He can't have done that, no! Niwa would never let him do something like that! Never!'_

Krad bitterly responded in a flash with, "That stupid Niwa boy had no idea what his thief was doing—and even if he _did_ it wasn't as if he was powerful enough to stop Dark anyway. Besides—it wasn't _you_ he meant to injure; he hit his real target…me…"

Dark had…tried to _kill_ them…

Dark…Dark who was supposedly the "better" of the two curses, the more ethical, the more valuing of life, the one who protected _Niwa_…

He had tried to kill them…and had nearly succeeded…Up until recently it had always been Dark defending, trying to simply escape Krad with whatever treasure he'd snatched that night, winging his way safely back to Daisuke's home where he would retreat into the boy's inner thoughts and rest until called upon again—he'd never seriously fought really, even when Satoshi would go all out against him…

That he would actually _try_…to take a life…to take _his_ life…

"…Satoshi-sama?" Krad looked up at him, face twisting in worry, "Satoshi-sama, you—"

'_Shut up_…_'_ he murmured, voice trembling as if it were a plucked violin string, quavering back and forth, _'Don't_ _speak to me_…_I'm_…_no_…_' _

Krad eased himself upright, pushing off of his knees, and slumped his shoulders in defeat as the boy backed up again, distancing himself even more from his curse—before giving a final furious shake of his head and abandoning his new astral form altogether, plunging the room back into darkness. "How often must I say it…" Krad cried to no one, "…before you will grant me the trust I so yearn for…?"

Silence, then a dam broke, _'I didn't want this! Why couldn't you leave me out of this damned feud of yours! All I want is to be left alone, by you, by Niwa—by everyone! I don't want to wake up one day and find out you did something stupid and I have to pay for it—'_

"I didn't _mean_ for this to happen, Satoshi-sama, I tried—"

'_BUT IT DID! It did! You saw that wound! And I have to bear it now! Until the day I die—which is looking to be a hell of a lot sooner now than yesterday! You and your ridiculous grudge against the Niwas that has nothing to do with me_…_'_

Krad was quiet for a minute, then spoke in a very soft voice, "…Would you rather I not fight him anymore, then?"

'_Would it give me back all those years he stole from me tonight?' _Satoshi retorted coldly, icy voice slicing the void which separated host from curse.

"…No…"

'_Then I couldn't care less what you and that thief do—it doesn't seem to make a difference anyway. So go—go out and kill Niwa. Right now. Go on, I won't stop you—I'll even give you my direct permission if that's what you need, I'm done with this.' _Krad didn't make a move, but rather sat down, abashed, on the edge of the mattress, hands clasped together. _'What're you waiting for? I'm sure he's fast asleep now, won't even put up a fight like my father did, and you know the way to his house well enough—or are you still recovering? Believe me I'd rather you go off and do it now rather than risk your and my necks at some other point in time trying to blast Dark from the sky, so just—'_

"Shut up, Satoshi-sama."

A shocked pause as the boy registered the words. _'_…_What?'_

"I _said_…_shut up_." Krad looked into the dark with unblinking, unseeing eyes, "You do not know what you grant me the power to do, so I will refuse any permission you give me for now—"

'_You don't ever tell me what to do—this is my body, and I'm finished with having to bear the burden of your mistakes, your—your half-thought decisions! I don't even need to be a part of you to know what was going through your mind tonight: Niwa Niwa Niwa, Dark Dark Dark, kill kill kill._ _That's all it ever is with you! You say you've changed but you haven't!'_

His mental voice cracked as if he were fighting back tears, but he swallowed and surged ahead, unable to keep himself from spilling every bit of emotion he'd absorbed, _'And I_…_I don't know anymore_… _Everything but you is changing_…_and I want it to stay the same_… _Dark—he tried to kill me! And Niwa hates me now. My father is dead, I'm living on an inheritance from a family I despise, and all I have left_…_is you_…_and even you want to change and leave me behind_…

'_But I_…_I'll still be here, alone_…_dying for sins I didn't commit_… _And I'm scared_…_scared that I'll wake up one day and everyone will be gone, changed, and all I'll have is a memory and a fantasy until I die before my time_…_I'm so scared_…_'_ Curled into a tiny ball of thought inside his prison, Satoshi shivered and buried his face into his arms, trying to block any other entreaties from entering…

But he failed, because one did.

"I wish…I wish to all the gods…that I could hold you right now…" A pause, and he gulped, "But I know that is not possible, and it is a punishment in itself… So all I can do is beg you to listen to me…when I say that I will _not_ leave you so long as you would have me beside you, that if it is your desire I will not change—just as if it were your desire I _would_ change… _Let me save you, Satoshi-sama_."

The boy peeked up from his ball into the darkness and sniffed feebly, _'H_…_how?'_

"Humans…normal humans…they cannot regenerate their threads, but—if I am with you, then by my presence all the years he took will slowly return, like life to a forest destroyed by fire. We…were never meant to exist as parasites to our hosts—it is a give and take relationship…and if you will let me, I will _give_…give my power to heal your astral wounds, to replenish your threads—_please_, Satoshi-sama! I…I want to…"

'…_You would_…_you could_…_heal me?'_

"I do not know what length of time it requires, but I will lend it—whatever it may be, because I promised I would not hurt you anymore if it was in my power to do so…will you let me?"

Satoshi was silent a moment, weighing Krad's plea as if determining its merits and sincerity. It wasn't simply a request to help, it was a request for trust—for Satoshi to trust him enough to place his life in his hands, hoping in the fact that he would not betray him as he'd been betrayed by so many others. And what did Krad ask for in return for this aid…?

"_If I am with you_…_"_

"Satoshi-sama!"

'…_Stay_…_' _came the feeble plea,_ '_…_stay with me_…_Krad_…_'_

* * *

_Author's Notes_: And thus begins...the rest of the story. Erm, let me be a little more ambiguous here. Trudging through this part of the story (from the murder to this point) was quite possibly the hardest to write, if only because it's very difficult to nail down these boys' characters during all this. Please forgive any mild OOC-ness, and umm...turn a blind eye to major OOC-ness :D Three weeks have passed since the murder, and things are starting to settle down again; by next chapter a full month will have passed. Next up...the scene that will REALLY make this thing deserve its R-rating... 


	10. His Playtime

_Galatea_

_Tenth Movement: His Playtime_

"Within the intense rain, fingers outstretched,  
Even in the dark night when I can't see, I will find you.  
Someday I'll pull back my hand, then I'll embrace you so strongly  
You won't be able to breathe."

_Lyrics, Kodou by Sakai Mikio and Sugisaki Yukiru _

* * *

Satoshi stared at the blank sprawling white canvas for the longest time, nearly giving up on the stupid whim after his mind remained bereft of inspiration for nearly fifteen minutes. He was, most likely, the only student left on the campus, his last tutoring session having ended nearly forty-five minutes ago. These days that seemed all he did anymore: attend school and tutor his fellow students, like a normal fourteen-year-old super-genius who'd already graduated college. 

Well, perhaps not so normal then… Whatever the case, his life of late was far less hectic and—dare he even say—less exciting than it had been a little over a month prior, despite Krad's late-night jaunts now to terrorize Dark. Everything seemed…so much simpler now.

No longer were there the torn views of Niwa Daisuke: hate him, love him, what? It was a plain and unadorned reaction to the boy now: just another student, not his supposed blood enemy. Krad could take his vengeance out on Dark if that was what pleased him, Satoshi was through with it all. Nowadays his idea of a challenge extended only as far as explaining quadratic functions to one of the giggly moony-eyed girls in his homeroom for an hour after school—with adequate pay, of course.

Nor was there the dark presence of his adopted father anymore—though he supposed he had Krad to thank for that. It had been over three weeks now since Hiwatari Kei's body had been found mangled and mutilated, rent open on the Toki no Kusabi. Nearly three weeks since that murder, three weeks since he'd sworn he'd never allow Krad any sort of freedom again for that betrayal… And nearly two weeks since he'd taken back those words and let Krad out again to continue his squabbles with the phantom thief.

He sighed, still blanking on an idea, and simply decided to let the brush wander over the canvas in whatever fashion it decided—the art would arise from it regardless of his motions: he was, after all, a Hikari. It was all but impossible for him to make something that couldn't somehow be construed as art, however abstract it may have seemed.

Why, he wondered inanely, was he even sitting in this art room, alone in the school, in front of this canvas which taunted him silently? Did he somehow miss painting as he often had done as a child, his father hovering behind him offering awed praise of the scribbles and splotches…? Hiwatari Kei, though, had never been one to aptly appreciate Satoshi's work as his own; it was enough for the former head of police that the small Hikari boy he'd taken in was gracing him with his creativity. Satoshi conjectured he had been more a being to be worshipped from afar, to be _envied_, than an actual son to the man.

Curling a thumb through the hole on one of the dirty palettes, he squirted a rainbow of oils onto the wood and slowly dipped his brush in, letting it wander over the snowy canvas.

That was the problem with white: it was only considered pure until something came along and touched it, tainted it. Even the tiniest speck of dirt would mar its beauty and render it useless, no longer desirable to any because of its used nature.

He stippled the brush stiffly along one side, spreading the pattern over the bottom right and into the center, then re-dipped the utensil and watched as the colors marched like army lines over the remaining bottom half. Another dip, and shoots of red leapt up from the army lines at the bottom like spurts of blood, before another dip sent blues and greens raining down from heaven like life-giving water.

…Why was he painting, he wondered again, even as his hand unconsciously continued its trek over the canvas—to pass the time? Or to forget about the time passing? Spurt, spurt…

He knew, as he watched the painting unfold under his fingers, that he was not the only spectator in his mind—even though he may have temporarily forgotten this. Which may explain, then, why he jumped a little when an astral presence suddenly spoke up from beside him, arms crossed contently, head cocked slightly to the side so that the ghostly golden hair barely graced the floor.

'…_I suppose it only follows, that from such beauty would spring such beauty_… _Your works, as always, Satoshi-sama, do not even need Hikari magic to come alive_…_'_

Satoshi nearly dropped the brush, having to fumble a few times to keep it from dropping, and so he missed the amused chuckle that Krad quickly hid from his tamer. After the boy resituated himself before the painting, he turned an annoyed glare at the creature that had disturbed him.

Krad ignored the piercing blue eyes that silently cursed their owner for being caught offguard so easily, and he moved closer to examine the work thus far. Grunting, Satoshi stood quickly and moved to put away the unfinished work, not wishing to have its many faults critiqued. He himself could count some fifteen or twenty on it just with a passing glance—he didn't need an ancient family curse blabbering on about how he should have moved the focus of the viewer's eye more to the lower right than he had, nor how he used too many contrasting colors in one area. It was, as he'd already told himself, simply a stupid whim.

'_Wait—you're not finishing it?' _was the disappointed cry as he pulled the canvas to himself away from Krad's view, and he stopped a few feet from a cabinet and turned a suspicious eye to the blonde. _'All I was doing was watching—you're going to stop an activity so ingrained in you simply because I spoke?'_ He uncrossed his arms, _'You should never leave an artwork unfinished_…_it makes them quite unhappy, you know.'_

Resting the canvas on the floor at his feet, he narrowed his eyes, "Really, I _don't_ need any faint praise for something as mundane as a five minute spattering of paint—least of all from _you_." Mustering as much sarcasm as he could, he continued as he replaced the painting with a few others to dry, "_Please_ don't force yourself on my part…"

Krad's gaze darkened slightly. _'You thought that faint praise, did you, Satoshi-sama?'_ No reply. _'Didn't I tell you that I never lie? Least of all to you—and wouldn't you think that I, more than anyone else, would know the true beauty of a Hikari work?'_ Slowly, the boy turned to him, doubt painted as clearly on his face as his images on the canvas, and Krad shook his head in mirth before taking a seat on the stool his host had just abandoned.

'_All your works, I have seen them. And I would protect each and every one of them with as much fervor as I would my own life—your own life. For they are all as beautiful and unique as their creator, not without flaws, but only made more exquisite by those flaws.' _He narrowed his eyes slightly and, for once, waxed serious, raising his head. _'Your works may not be perfect, but you, Satoshi-sama_…_are.'_

Satoshi scoffed loudly and wandered back over to the easel to wash and put away his tools, carrying them over to a nearby faucet. "_Perfect_?" he laughed incredulously, "You say you know me better than anyone else, and yet you think me perfect?" He hastily shook the brush to air-dry it and returned it to a cup. Wiping his hands on his apron, he added, "I suppose I'd never realized you were blind—please forgive me." The final statement was added with enough acidic sarcasm to melt iron.

Krad's frown deepened. _'Deny it as much as you want, but I have already reminded you that I, more than any other, would know the true beauty of a Hikari work—or Hikari member—best.'_

Tossing the palette into a box with others, Satoshi picked up a small broom and swept away the mess he'd made. "I think I liked you better when you were praising the painting rather than me."

Krad perked up a bit at this, head lifting in wonder, _'Oh? Liked me better, you say?' _Satoshi didn't reply immediately, almost regretting even making the idle comment. _'Please explain.' _It was not a request, that much was obvious.

Sighing, Satoshi returned the broom to its rack and glared at his curse. "All I meant was that it's a far easier chore to tolerate you when you're not…well, for lack of a better phrasing, when you're _not being you._" Krad blinked stupidly, obviously not following. "When—when you're just there, not taunting, not ordering, not being a general pain-in-the-ass that seems to only enjoy watching me squirm. No talk about murdering a Niwa, no plans to take over my body and kill him in his sleep, no…_possessiveness_…then…" He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed an arm as if delaying speaking his next thought.

"Then…the way you've become, you're not…that bad a person to be around…" His eyes almost immediately shot up to gauge Krad's reaction to the hesitant admission that had almost had to be forcibly drawn out, fully prepared for the onslaught that was sure to follow. Silently, he cursed himself for opening up even the slightest bit—had his past not taught him better than to take such a risk?

But to his grand surprise, Krad did _not_ take advantage of the upper hand he held in their current situation, but pushed his image off the stool and looked at the boy before him, smiling and pondering a response. He reached a gloved hand forward and guided the boy's chin up so that he was staring fully at him.

'…_Then you have found out about me what I have known about you all your life.'_ Satoshi blinked uncertainly, trying to keep his face blank. _'You only see me when you want to_…_and you never want to see me as I want to be seen. I too enjoy times such as this, without outside interference, when you are simply yourself, Hikari Satoshi, not focusing on resisting any advances I make, or on reminding me how hateful I am to you_…_when you are simply there, simply_…_reachable_…_then I am content.' _As if he could feel the boy's instinctive urge to pull away slowly overpowering the captivating pull of Krad, he released Satoshi and turned back to the empty easel, which his host too now looked at. The next day the room would be filled with students preparing entries for the Summer Art Festival, Niwa Daisuke among them. Perhaps he would even be seated upon that same stool, pondering what he should dream up.

But for now, it was just the Tamer and the Tamed.

"I wish…" Satoshi hesitated to speak any further potentially damaging statements which Krad might be able to use against him in the future, but the desire to say what needed to be said eventually won out. "I wish…we could talk like this again…some other time…" He didn't even need to look up to see Krad's reaction; he could feel a gentle pulse of agreement reverberating in his mind like a plucked violin string. "It's really..._right_…"

And for once, he chose to voluntarily overlook the fact that the only reason their accord felt so _right_ was most likely because that was how it was intended to be in the first place: the host and the family curse, working together as one—any conflict would naturally place a strain on both members.

Right now, he merely wanted to assure himself that it was possible to still be content, even without the elusive Niwa bird in his cage…

And for the moment, standing in the art room in the empty school building at 5:47 on a Tuesday evening…he _was_ content…

They both were. And they both realized, then, that it could be good that way.

* * *

Another week passed in lazy idleness for both Tamer and Tamed, and a strange calm settled over them, bound to be broken with the announcement of Dark's next advance notice. Krad had used up one of his allowed three notices without much by way of a hitch, but if he wanted to truly earn his host's trust, he needed to find some way to show it, and sitting here waiting for the next notice wasn't helping him in this cause. 

He'd silently noted that Satoshi seemed to be thrusting himself even more into his work of late, as if making a concerted effort to distract himself from both his curse and his former love interest. The boy barely made eye contact with the Niwa child lately (not that Krad had any problem with this in the least) and spoke to Krad himself even less (which the blonde _did_ have a problem with).

He couldn't, however, bring himself to confront his host on this matter, as despite it being already one month after the murder, Satoshi no doubt still harbored dark feelings for his curse.

His host was currently fighting nodding off on the train ride back to his apartment after a long day of studying, lecturing, and tutoring. Krad faintly recalled Satoshi passing some excuse off to a teacher of his requesting exemption from being required to attend the next day's field trip. The blonde had perked up upon hearing the location—the Central Art Museum—and resigned himself to silently pouting. He would have liked to have actually gone to an art museum to appreciate the art rather than worry about Dark for once. But it couldn't be denied that his poor Satoshi-sama had been working himself to the bone of late and deserved a day to sleep in.

Whoever said that Krad of the Hikari didn't make an occasional sacrifice for his precious host?

* * *

Hiwatari Satoshi was tired—dead tired, dog tired, tired through and through, inside and out, tired in mind, tired in body, tired down to his very bones—and he wanted, more than anything else to fall asleep as quickly as possible, because, as stated, he was _tired_. 

The whole past week had been one long game of catch-up, trying to put his life back into sorts. He'd been slacking off in his studies lately, growing lax under his freer schedule, and there was an important set of mid-year exams coming up soon—exams he hadn't even begun to study for. So every morning for the past week he'd set his alarm for 5 A.M., rising bleary-eyed and thumbing through notes on math equations and chemical laws and literary terms, yawning his way from one subject to the next before showering and hastily readying himself for the actual school day.

There was no time for afternoon naps anymore—tutoring saw to that. His monthly stipend from the bank in concordance with his biological parents' will (an amount to be doled out to him should Hiwatari Kei fail to provide adequately for him) was enough to keep him reasonably well fed and housed, but it was not enough to distract him—and the money wouldn't last forever. So, every afternoon, he would travel to homes across the city and tutor the children of the wealthy and middle-class for a fee, distracting himself from the emptiness in his heart by filling the emptiness in his wallet. So far, it seemed to be working—he had less time to worry about Niwa nowadays.

Today had been a particularly trying day, though. Up at five as usual, and a long day at school consisting of a stale presentation on cloning to the biology staff and a bit of smooth talking that freed him from a kickball game in gym. It was his turn to clean up after school—with, of all people, the annoying younger Harada who seemed to have taken a more pleasant view of him now that he was no longer trying to arrest her precious "Dark-san". That had kept him another hour and a half, and as the sun was setting he dashed off to the first of his three tutoring dates for the evening.

The last had just ended an hour ago, and by the time he'd taken the forty-five minute train ride from the distant suburb his clients had been located in, and walked home, it was nearing eleven-thirty.

So he was tired.

He fumbled blindly with his clinking set of keys, fishing around for them in his pocket before trying three different ones and finally pushing the right one into the keyhole, letting it swing open with a soft creak. He slipped his shoes off in the entryway and padded in sock feet into the living room. Slinging his pack off from his shoulders onto the couch, he didn't give it another thought and continued on towards his bedroom. Glaring at his clock, he made sure the alarm was turned off—tomorrow, oh yes, tomorrow he was _free_. He silently thanked the god of field trips for making the following day's one he _didn't_ have to attend. After all, the Central Art Museum? _Please_, he'd seen enough museums to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.

Tomorrow was "sleep in as late as I want and possibly never get out of bed except to eat and use the bathroom" day. Yes, Satoshi liked the sound of _that_ day a lot, and pondered wearily why he didn't have days like that more often.

The pondering didn't last long though, and after reaffirming that he would not be woken up at five by the annoying beeping of his alarm, he removed his glasses and began unbuttoning the stiff school uniform shirt, tossing it onto a basket with several others just like it. He retained the tank top he'd worn underneath it, and removed his pants in a similar fashion, stripping down to a pair of boxers.

Aaah…bedtime now. He hadn't even bothered to turn on any lights since his eyes were already adjusted to the darkness, so it made it all the easier for him to slip under the covers and swiftly slow his breathing, consciousness breaking away from its physical bonds like a ship from its mooring, lost in the fog of slumber…

* * *

The wonderful thing about dreaming, you see, is that you seldom know that it _is_ one. To the dreamer, everything they experience is real, normal, acceptable. There are no masks, no tricks, no ploys—everyone is trustworthy and everything they do is trustworthy. So for all the time spent dreaming, humanity is blissfully unaware that there could exist beyond this realm anything to the contrary, outside of the norm—however _ab_normal that state may be to a conscious onlooker.

And it is much the same in one's deepest darkest fantasies, save that in fantasies, the creator knows full well the falsity of the actions and understands that it is _not_ normal—but simply chooses to ignore the fact that it would never come true for the time being.

A dream is acceptance, a fantasy denial.

How fitting then, that Krad should fantasize rather than dream. No, not once in three centuries had he _ever_ had anything of the sort which could be called a "dream." He could sleep, and did so frequently, slipping into a low energy state in his host's consciousness where he recouped his strength, forgetting for a while any worries he might have. But he never dreamed in these time periods—he was always conscious of the goings on around him, even when he forcibly tuned them out. No, he _fantasized_. Inserted himself into mental situations he could control, scenes he could play out to his own taste. And these fantasies nearly always included his Satoshi-sama.

Satoshi-sama's apartment, Satoshi-sama's room, Satoshi-sama's bed, Satoshi-sama's body…all of Satoshi-sama's things were there in his fantasies…and tonight was no different.

They were currently facing off at the foot of the bed, the dimly lit bedroom providing just enough light for the two to fully take in the other's appearance—what time it was Krad did not specify, for it didn't matter to him, the petty human timetables. What mattered was that he was standing here with _Satoshi-sama_. And a particularly delicious looking one at that.

The boy was not stocky, but nor was he what some would call contemptuously "weedy"—he was an elegant melding of power and potency, lean but not skinny, tall but not beanpole-ish, perfectly suited for sprinting like lightning after a kaitou or tackling him to the ground…or as Krad chose to view him, simply _perfect_.

Satoshi was a matchless member of a breed that itself was matchless in its species, with the tell-tale Hikari characteristics that captivated his fellow humans and drove his own curse mad with longing. The frozen blue eyes that could pierce with a glance, the wispy locks that fluttered in the slightest breeze, a sturdy frame to support the toned but not overly-muscled body plan that hadn't changed in centuries, perfectly adapted for the blood-inlaid purpose of chasing Niwas.

Krad himself, though, was nothing to sneer at—for if the Hikaris had to be adept at chasing and pinning little phantom thieves, then he himself was the ultimate Hikari, crafted in the image of his maker as a godly being among godly beings—the divinely gifted clan members who could not even foresee their own downfall and the rise of himself and Dark. Who could not prevent the ravages of the Cultural Revolution, who doomed their own progeny to years of feuding in recompense for the wrongs brought about by the Niwas' interference. And he was the supreme creation of these people.

Tonight he'd let his hair down—something he seldom did, for it so often became a hindrance in the physical realm, and in the astral realm it didn't matter in the least whether it was up or down, he couldn't feel it regardless. For whatever reason, though, he'd unbound his golden mane, freeing it from the ribbon which normally constrained it, and set it and the cross tied to it aside. Tonight let there be nothing between himself and Satoshi-sama.

"Good evening, Satoshi-sama," he crooned, staring down at the slightly shorter boy, and gave a polite bow of acknowledgement, "Are you well?". The teen returned his greeting and smiled contentedly—he was always _so_ considerate in these fantasies, you know, it was arousing. Consumed with and radiating the same warm, hazy happiness, he was the epitome of innocence. His normally cold blue eyes were now bright and willing, face an excited canvas of wonder, prepared to give and receive whatever ideas Krad might suggest to him. And never let it be said that Krad did not come prepared to his fantasies.

He settled slowly onto the edge of the mattress, beckoning the boy to do the same, who willfully complied, caught up in the warm golden gaze that was locked onto him. "Satoshi-sama…would you like to play a game tonight?" the older man questioned innocently, and he had to wait but a moment before the boy's eyes smiled back at him, lit up with excitement.

"What…kind of game?" was the curious reply, and Krad laughed at the acceptance. This Satoshi-sama was eager, inquisitive, naïve—no, not naïve, _innocent_. Like a dreamer, he didn't dare suspect that there might be any ulterior motive to Krad's request. A game was a game, fun, enjoyable…and by extension _pleasurable_. He would passively accept most anything Krad suggested so long as it followed these lines, and the blonde had no intention of destroying the boy's image of what a game was.

"A very fun game…you'll like it quite a bit I wager…" Twisting his upper body to face the teen, he pushed back the sleeves on the thin astral robe he was clad in and turned his attentions to Satoshi's garments. He never specified what the boy appear in, it was a surprise he looked forward to—but tonight…oh, tonight it was a deviously simple ensemble.

Thin boxer shorts and a flimsy white button-up dress shirt were all the barriers that existed in this meeting to keep the Hikari curse from ravaging his astral host then and there. But wait…he could not take this lightly, or else risk spoiling the atmosphere and ending the game prematurely. No, this as with any other would be taken slowly, slowly.

In perfect synchronization his slender arms reached out and grasped the fabric of either shoulder, coaxing it down the arms to divest him of the garment at a horrifically slow pace, and he continued his explication.

"There are points on the body, Satoshi-sama, that when touched in _just_ the right way, can render a person completely helpless in front of another…did you know that?" He spoke the revelation as if it were merely a lesson to be learned in a classroom, and after turning a curious eye to Krad's ministrations on his clothing, he looked up and shook his head. "Ah, I thought not…but it's true, you know, I've seen it before with my own eyes." Letting his appendages be guided, Satoshi finally slipped free of the top and let it flutter, no longer needed, to the floor.

"But how can you do that with just a touch? It doesn't seem possible, I think." Aah, the boy was making this _too_ enjoyable. It was a challenge Krad had been hoping would be issued.

"Oh?" His voice rose a bit in pitch, as if surprised that he'd been doubted, "Not possible, you think?" Delicate shoulders rose with a childish shrug, and Krad smiled and shifted his weight across the bed until he was seated right behind his lovely host, faced with his now-bare back, "Then I suppose, Satoshi-sama…" His voice dropped to something akin to a whisper, laden with devious intent, "…that I shall have to prove it to you…"

Leaning forward, he swung his legs underneath his weight and propped himself up in a kneeling position, with his head peeping over Satoshi's left shoulder, and he uttered in the boy's ear, "Here is our game, Satoshi-sama. I will prove to you first that such a point exists, and then you will try and find mine…you see? A delightfully simple game." He paused, and the blue head turned awkwardly to look at him, obviously eager to start their diversion. "So right now it is my turn, you merely sit back and enjoy." A nod, and the head turned back around front, ready for whatever his partner was about to do.

Krad leaned back onto his knees and settled down, comfortably distributing his weight through his lower legs, well used to the notoriously _un_comfortable position of seiza. He reached his hands forwards and laid them, palms flat, on the untainted canvas that was his precious Hikari child's back, splaying his fingers outwards. He rubbed and massaged the flesh as if kneading fresh bread-dough, and let his fingers playfully walk up and down the "ladder" that was Satoshi's slightly protruding backbone, sending a wave of goose bumps out to populate the arms and neck.

He halted his wandering hands and rested them at the base of the ribcage before sliding his own arms underneath Satoshi's reaching around to address the frontal pectoral area. This brought his still-covered (albeit very thinly) chest into contact with the smooth back, and he pressed forward, hugging him tightly. As if the boy could _miss_ the unmistakable presence of his curse pushing into him from behind.

As he'd allowed them on the back, Krad released his fingers again to explore Satoshi's chest, bringing forth another wave of shivers when they skittered like insects across his pectorals, brushing with feather-light attention over the nipples.

But his hands were not the only parts of Krad paying special attention to the pliant and teasingly submissive body beneath him—not by far. A pair of trembling lips now began a trek across his neck from behind as he laid angel-kisses in a clear trail across his flushed throat, starting at his nape and working their way feverishly towards an eventual goal of the half-open pouting mouth waiting for him.

Once he'd paid sufficient attentions to the back of the now reddened neck, Krad found it necessary to adjust their positions to allow him better access to the boy's front, and leaned his golden head down just enough to drape the Satoshi's left arm over him, using his other to pull him further onto the bed. Classical mystique had to be dispensed with, and he broke seiza to lower his host onto the soft material of the mattress.

As he leaned over the now prone form, he took in once again the face, having to readjust his description of it. The emotions were still simply displayed, unashamed to reveal themselves fully to the man, but were no longer as innocent or naïve. In any other situation Krad might have described the face, with its half-lidded eyes no doubt pondering what pleasures might next be introduced and flushed cheeks attesting to the fever burning in the veins, as wanton, lustful—but not here. His fantasy Satoshi was none of those things, because his fantasy Satoshi did not know of those things.

What was lust? That was too complicated for the innocent to grasp—desire, yes, perhaps even longing, craving to be fulfilled in every way. But these were simple base emotions that anyone could feel, free of sexual attachment. And wanton? That implied immorality, and this boy, pure and untainted, was anything but that.

If he felt anything, it was because it was being thrust upon him, and not of his own doing. Were Krad not here with him, this Satoshi would live on in his consciousness, free from any kind of licentious thought or shameful desire. An angel in every way…until Krad would come and show him what wonders there were in Hell.

Delicate hands reached up to finger the tie on Krad's robe, and he smiled, pleased that the boy was finally starting to sharpen up to things now. Obliging the unspoken request, he stood up on his knees and let the tie loose, allowing the robe to fall away and reveal himself fully—unlike humans, he did not seem endowed with that pesky moral _modesty_. Why these strange mortals should be so ashamed of their own bodies was beyond him, unless they felt as he did before Satoshi many times: incomplete, unworthy, hardly fit to bask in his presence.

This Satoshi, though, was different in that respect as well. He would never judge, would never laugh contemptuously, would never sneer at any imperfections he might find. No, this Satoshi looked at him and drank in every corner and crevice, every dip and rise of the vision before him.

Clothes concealed the broad chiseled chest that stretched underneath Satoshi's fingers now, pushing up as if keeping the body from falling on top of him as he explored the fine particulars of the newly exposed flesh, golden locks dripping down onto Satoshi's body like molten lava. Underneath folds of fabric one could not fully appreciate the barely-perceptible curves defining the biceps and triceps, nor the abs or obliques—but the offending garment had been removed now, and half-open blue eyes squinted through the haze brought on by Krad's jugular kisses to drink in every detail and commit it to memory.

Krad watched in amusement as the hands brushed over his chest, eagerly investigating the new territory displayed before him, and his grin widened as the same hands began to trail lower and lower, headed down past his abdominal muscles. "Ah ah ah…" he chided softly, balancing himself on one hand above Satoshi while guiding the boy's own off to the side with his other, "For later, Satoshi-sama, for later—did you forget that it is still my turn in our game? I've not yet proven my point." The bright blue eyes looked up, much of the haze having lifted, and regarded the blonde curiously. "Let me continue, then…"

He wasted no more time and lowered his head back down to the boy's pulsing neck, a vision nearly likened to a vampiric encounter, and falling into the symbolism, he proceeded to "attack" the eagerly offered flesh underneath him, showering it with succulent nips and leaving tiny red welts in his wake as he marched onward over the snowy plain.

_Like wearing brilliant flowers,  
You're an angel, come down to me.  
That voice, that smile_...  
_It's beating faster, my heartbeat._

Each assault felt like a tiny pyre built on the surface of Satoshi's skin, quickly doused when exposed to the air, only to be reignited with the next nip and kiss, and another, and another, until it felt as if Krad was drawing a line in his flesh with a fire-brand, marking him as his own. The line stretched up his neck, up across his jawline, before erupting onto his lips in a bonfire of passion.

Gone and forgotten, now, were the chaste kisses along the back of his neck, or even the mild nips that had ensued up the front—the Hikari curse was transfigured into a ravenous demon who hungered for the lips so willingly offered up to him now, begging to be taken.

_Eternally, inside deep passion,  
I know gentleness and strength.  
Let me heal your pain  
__And unfurl my wings for you._

So take them he did—and indeed, took more. He teased the bottom lip for only a moment before turning his attentions to the entrance so jealously guarded by those lips, bringing his hands up behind the boy to cradle his head closer, as if by doing to he could explore deeper.

There was no need to entice the lips open with a phantom flick of his tongue over their surface, there was not even the need to ask, for this was Krad's fantasy, and as such Satoshi complied completely with every subtle desire wished of him, yielding instantly to the advances of the so-often-silver tongue his curse possessed, greeting it like a long-awaited guest with his own. While Krad's tongue delved deeper, seeking to contact as much of the boy beneath him as possible, he maneuvered his hands down the arching back beneath him, pushing their chests together to cover Satoshi as completely as possible. The friction of flesh against flesh ignited flames anew, and excitement flared in the center of his being in anticipation.

The agonizingly delicious sensation—so warm, so unlike a Hikari to be so _emotional_, their ice barriers breaking and melting like a spring thaw, it was almost too much for Krad to continue for fear that not Satoshi but _he_ would not be able to stand it. But this…was the only setting in which he could touch, could kiss, could _consume,_ could _be_ consumed, could submit to his desires and not be turned away from them. No, for this, he _had_ to stand it.

Had to stand it—or else drag the Hikari boy down with him into the madness he himself brought about, and let them drown together. Letting his physical consciousness get the better of his astral mind for a moment, Krad reflexively ground his groin into the opposite one reflected below, still hungering to touch even more of the boy, to feel that fire spread further, and was greeted with the most beautiful sound in the world, a soft whine, mingled with the barely audible—

"…Kr—_ad_…"

Oh, his name in those _lips_. Never mind that the words and sounds disrupted his kissing session, this was _far_ more important. His stomach churned violently in almost revolting elation, sending his heart flying up into his throat, and he swiftly moved his attentions away from the lips, off to the side to address the smooth cheeks, temples, and ears. He wanted to leave that mouth free from obstruction, free to moan and cry and verbalize all it wanted—why he hadn't thought of this earlier was beyond Krad at the moment.

_Within the intense rain, fingers outstretched,  
Even in the dark night when I can't see, I will find you.  
Someday I'll pull back my hand, then I'll embrace you so strongly  
You won't be able to breathe._

"Tell me, Satoshi-sama…" he huffed, voice as oxygen-deprived as if he'd just run a mile, continuing to bestow nips and kisses on the cheeks and temples, still famished, hungering for the carnal pleasure he derived from the encounter, "Tell me…does it feel good so far? Our game?"

Circling his arms behind the blonde head for support, Satoshi pulled the rest of his body even closer, virtually lost to coherent thought. But not _so_ much, it appeared, that the most basic part of him could ignore the question, and he struggled to find his breath and reply, "Ye—" Krad thrust again, knowing the effect it brought about, and he smiled wickedly when the air caught sharply in Satoshi's throat, forcing him to swallow. "_Yes_…" he finally managed in a guttural voice after a moment, and it amused the blonde to no end to know how much his delicious host struggled to form the single syllable.

"And did you know…" he quested further, lowering his head to trace the thin cartilage of the ear with a deft tongue, taking his agonizing time to round each corner and observe the crevices, "that you are _so beautiful_ right now…_Satoshi-sama_…?"

There was no verbal response this time, for none was expected; it was a simple statement of fact, that was all. He buried his face in the crook that existed at the junction of neck and shoulder and took in a final deep breath, giving it a preemptory lick, comfortable that not one inch of anything above Satoshi's collarbone had been left unattended.

Krad pulled up, untangling the hands from behind his head, and ran a palm over the flushed chest surface heaving beneath him. Yes, yes, he wanted that warmth—and he wanted it _now_. Launching a new assault on the left pectoral, he smiled, pleased, when he felt the body beneath him shudder in response to the new sensation on the as-of-yet untouched area of his chest. Pulling his lower half up into the air slightly, to allow the boy to breathe, he lingered for only a moment before crashing back anew, drinking in the delicious sounds elicited.

"Mmm…won't you…moan for me…Satoshi…sama…? Doesn't it…mmm…feel delicious to…just release all…all that you feel…? _Moan_ for me…" The combined request and order from the dominant blonde who now easily straddled his partner was punctuated with kisses and sharp indrawings of breath as he himself struggled to fight back moans of his own. In abject compliance, he could sense the trembling deep within Satoshi's chest as it worked its way up through his throat and _breezed_ over his barely-parted lips in a soft almost-whimper. He ran his fingers up and down the sides like flesh-colored spiders, enjoying the sensation as the lithe body squirmed and rose up to meet him, silently clamoring for him to continue—and who was he to disappoint his Tamer?

He was playing the child like a musical instrument, tuning him to his fancy; with each heated kiss or artistic nip he was greeted with a new sound, a new response, but always _always_ begging for more, desperate not to be left alone, to have Krad all to himself… _That_ was the true extent of his fantasy.

_From a world plunged into grief,  
I can hear a fluttering premonition and a sound which turns destiny.  
If you open your eyes,  
The stars, moon and sun will all surely be shining._

Krad sucked his way across the taut flesh from one pectoral muscle to the next, working his way up to the collarbones and feathering them with kisses, raising goosebumps as strands of gold tickled the tender exposed skin. "Sato…Satoshi-sama…" he hissed when this time the boy himself raised his lower half to the sky in an effort to satisfy the craving for touch burning in him.

"No…" came a surprisingly coherent statement from the quivering lips, and Krad, not expecting to hear such a word from his fantasy Satoshi, looked up over the chest at the half-shut blue eyes staring longingly at him. A trembling hand reached hesitantly forward and pulled Krad's face towards his own, running a tongue that was salivating in anticipation over his curse's lips. "Don't…" he breathed huskily, "…call me…Satoshi-sama…right now…" The boy tugged on the lower lip like a child at his mother's breast, "Call me…as an equal…call…my _name_…"

A new turn in the game now…Krad _liked_ this Satoshi-sa—ah, correction, this _Satoshi_. There was some freeing element that thrilled him to the core by dropping the elevating honorific he normally bestowed upon his beloved. He saw himself as unworthy of addressing him by anything lower than "Satoshi-sama"…but what Satoshi-sama wanted, Satoshi-sama would not be refused.

It was somewhat strange though…none of his previous phantom fantasy Satoshi-samas had ever voiced any request beyond that which Krad _asked_ them to request. If they begged for his kisses, it was because he said, "Beg me to kiss you…" If they moaned his name in mid-coitus, it was because he said, "Call my name…" Never, _never_ had one taken such initiative…but he could not deny that he _liked_ it. This Satoshi was more…real, more _believable_. With it staring at him that way he actually half-expected the vision to recover its senses any moment now and berate him for taking advantage of him… Well, he cocked a grin, it was at least thrilling to think he was doing something bad with Satoshi-sama…

"As you wish…" he spoke simply, and it was now _he_ who was complying eagerly with his partner's requests. He pulled away from the lips that held him prisoner and worked his way around them, trailing back to the neck as he'd done before. Planting a kiss, and harvesting it, leaving a red welt as recompense.

Plant, plant, harvest, harvest, he sowed and reaped the boy's flesh, pressing into the pliant body and gasping when it pressed back—much more of this and Krad might have to forfeit for fear he'd lose himself too early in the game. "S…S'tosh…" He struggled between breaths to force the delectable syllables over his puffed lips, but failed miserably, running them together like smeared paints across a canvas.

"_Say_…my name… Say my name…_Krad_…" Delicate fingers entwined themselves in his mass of hair, massaging the scalp beneath.

_Call my name,  
And I'll take up all the sadness which downpours on you.  
I'll offer up mybody and soul, even riskmy life,  
Because I want to protect your smile to the end._

The lips paused, and he called upon all his astral powers endowed upon him to give him a steady voice, "_Satoshi_…" Gods, what good was it to be a demi-immortal with powers humans could only _dream_ of if he could not even speak his host's name for all the desire clouding his mind, effected by said host?

There was no reply, but Krad felt that somehow it had pained his poor Satoshi for him to fail to be able to say even his name properly when he most desired to hear it—when even though he was more than likely blinded by lust, ignorant of anything beyond his own flesh and the flesh pressed tantalizingly against him, he could still register the taunting light voice that hissed his name, transfiguring the syllables into wisps of effervescent fire which flowed from his tongue.

Well then, if Krad had hurt his precious host…he would have to make up for it by compounding the pleasure…

Unconsciously he must have slowed his kisses, even stopped, because the sound that snapped him from his reverie was the needy moaning of his name from just above his head, "Kr…_Krad_…"

He reached up a hand to stop the Hikari boy from squirming to press himself nearer, trying to alert his curse to the need he'd aroused, the fire stoked in his loins. Smiling knowingly Krad brushed a few sweat-soaked strands of wispy blue hair from the flushed face staring down at him in need—need to be touched, need to be held, need to be stroked, need to be filled, his Satoshi _needed_.

After capturing the mouth in a final kiss, he began the trek down the boy's front which had been building for some time, saturating the feverish flesh with kisses and nips, tracing his tongue in fiery circles before sucking up like a vampire, eliciting harried gasps from his Tamer.

When he caressed the valley between the pectorals, he hissed, "Tell me to keep going…"

And true to form, the boy replied dutifully, though his voice was a bit more laden with a heavy air, "Keep…keep going…"

Krad continued with his braising of the flesh until he reached the top of the abdominals, lifting his face slightly from the surface when he was met with a particularly powerful thrust—the boy was getting anxious apparently, and that in turn was starting to prove more than the blonde could handle. He swallowed, though, and spoke again, "Tell me not to stop…"

"Don't stop…"

A few inches lower… "Again."

"Don't _stop_." The voice was more strained, the breathing came more quickly, and it was practically impossible to associate with the normally cool, calm, and collected Hiwatari Satoshi. Krad continued, brushing over his navel, but the heady rush of the kisses had heightened the boy's senses and he did _not_ miss the gradual slowing down.

"Again."

Satoshi pulled his head up to glare dead-on at the blonde crown settled over his stomach, and gasped sharply when it turned a golden gaze upwards to him, smirking. "Don't…you _dare_ stop…k—keep _going_! Stop your damn _teasing_!"

But Krad was not teasing—he knew exactly how best to pleasure his host, it was simple, seeing as the two were in fact one. He just wanted to hear the words, the pleas, the begging from those puffy lips, cursing him for his slow methods. Settling his palms on either side of the shuddering body, Krad pushed himself up and stood triumphant over the boy.

"Then that…is all I wanted to hear." Eyes darkened by desire, Satoshi narrowed his gaze in confusion. "_I win,_" the blonde chortled predatorily, tongue flicking out over his lips in a flash of anticipation, and he leaned in to claim his rightfully-won prize.

* * *

Cold stormy eyes snapped open abruptly, stinging as they were assaulted by the glare of the bright morning sun streaming in through his bay windows. He blinked a few times in rapid succession and shot his gaze from side to side, searching the room, before they came to rest in front of him, focused on nothing, and widened in fear at a strange dampness pooling near his mid-section. 

With celerity he hadn't shown even when pursuing Dark from rooftop to rooftop on nights when the thief sent out a new advance notice, he sprang up, landing both feet soundly on the hardwood floor, and snatched the sheets off of the mattress—both the coverlet and the under sheet—before dashing down the hall towards the laundry room. His heart was pounding a deep bass thrum in his chest—though no longer for the reason he'd dreamt it was pounding, what felt like a mere moment ago—and his breath came out in short gasps, thoughts skittering across his mind.

_'Please don't let him see, please don't let him see, please don't let him see, please don't let him se—'_

His thoughts, though, were cut short when he sensed the web-like stirrings in the depth of his mind that signaled another presence was rousing to the waking world with him, and he pursed his lips in a thin line, letting a hesitant sigh of relief escape him—apparently his curse hadn't been conscious for the all-too-embarrassing happenings of the night.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward onto the washer as it hummed to life after he'd filled it with detergent and turned it on, burying his face in his hands, positively humiliated. His face was still flushed a bright crimson, contrasting sharply with his pale crop of hair, but he now blushed for an entirely different reason than before.

'_Was it a bad dream, Satoshi-sama?'_ a light voice tinkled from the threshold, and the boy jumped at the sound and whirled around, wide-eyed and still blushing furiously. Apparently his curse _hadn't_ just been roused, for he appeared wide-awake and curious, leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb (and blessedly _clothed_ now), with a knowing smile playing across his lips.

A silent moment passed between the two as Satoshi debated whether it was best to make a dash for it or if that would only fuel Krad's interest further, making it all the harder to avoid this highly embarrassing situation—well, embarrassing on his part at least. With any luck he could play on the supposition of a nightmare being the cause of Satoshi's sudden wakeful state and flushed features—

No such luck, for apparently while he considered his position mentally, the blonde caught a hint that something wasn't quite right with their interaction and the boy's lack of an immediate scathing response to his playful conversation-starter. _'No_…_no it wasn't_…_' _He cocked his head and stared strangely,_ 'It_…_was something else, wasn't it?'_

Taking a step forward, his grin widened when he was met with a mirrored step back, and he began to stroke his chin in thought regarding the odd high-strung actions of his host this morning. Satoshi levered himself with the washing machine, and blue eyes glared threateningly at Krad, as if daring him to take another step forward. After studying the reaction for a moment, the blonde continued, _'Not a bad dream, no_…_but perhaps_…_it was a good dream then_…_'_ He turned his devious gaze to the washer behind the boy, then back to the angry eyes. A spiteful air threading through his voice, he pondered aloud, _'Was it about your precious Niwa-kun I wonder?' _Amused laughter he alone could hear echoed in Satoshi's skull, pinging his mind mercilessly and patronizing him to no end.

When the boy didn't reply, but rather turned around and busied himself with adjusting the dial on the washer, Krad narrowed his own eyes in annoyance, and pressed with false sympathy coloring his voice, _'Do tell me what the matter is, won't you?'_ His facial expression, though, betrayed him fully, with eyes flashing like a predator cornering some wounded animal, and Satoshi had nowhere left to back up.

"It really is none of your business as I see it," the Hikari boy snapped, having finally found his voice and kept it steady enough to produce a tone that seemed familiar to his curse, and his nervously palpitating heart calmed slightly. The last thing he wanted was for Krad to catch him hot and bothered over this questioning, and he prayed that this convinced him it was nothing serious, and that the matter would be dropped. After all, there was no way Krad could _force_ him to tell something he didn't wish to.

…Was there?

He turned around and, aiming to keep his eyes on the ground, he began to walk back out into the hall, only to be blocked at the doorway by his curse, who was obviously not intending to move. _'Ah ah ah, not until you tell me what's going on—really, what has got you so worked up for? It usually takes me at least an hour before you're even coherent enough to think about getting angry with me.'_ Satoshi dared an upward flick of his eyes and glowered angrily, and without another word he simply breezed right through the image, continuing on his trek back to his room.

Krad regarded him for a moment, arms crossed, with an annoyed pout playing across his lips—then an ingenious thought struck him.

'_If you won't tell me_…_'_ he called to the retreating figure at the opposite end of the hall, _'Then I'll simply find out for myself.'_

Satoshi stopped dead in his tracks, feet refusing to move an inch further, and the blonde smiled triumphantly, slowly approaching his host from behind, shaking his head. _'It really is no trouble for me at all to break through whatever pathetic mental barriers you might try and erect to keep me out_…_Or would you rather tell me yourself—to be fair I'll give you the chance.'_

The boy threw a poisonous scowl over his left shoulder, eyes narrowing to tiny slits. "…_Bastard_…can't you just leave me alone for once?" No reply. "And you wonder why I can't stand you…"

Shrugging, Krad trailed him as he retreated into his room and flopped down onto the now-coverless mattress. There really was nothing he could do against the threat of breaking into his deep thoughts—Satoshi had nothing to threaten Krad with in return, and anything he could possibly use to tempt him with would be just as bad as telling what he'd dreamt anyway.

"I had…a…a dream, like you guessed. That's all." Leaning forward, he settled his elbows onto his knees and rested his chin in his palms, with his legs dangling from the edge of the mattress. Mentally he fought looking up into the golden eyes he could feel patiently boring into the crown of his head as he tried to find some other point of focus in the floorboards—after a moment, though, he gave in and turned his eyes upwards slowly.

It was…_that_ image—the same smirking stance Krad now held…he remembered it best of all scenes from the dream, because it was the same one which haunted him, teased him, stoked a fire of pent-up rage and lust combined. In the back of his mind he could still hear his own voice, hissing an urging command, crying out for fulfillment, _"Don't_…_you dare stop_…_k—keep going! Stop your damn teasing!"_

Something in his face must have betrayed him, because the smirk soon faded into one of mild worry and annoyance, and Krad uncrossed his arms. _'_…_And what was it about, Satoshi-sama, that has made you rise so early on the one day you've been dreaming about sleeping through for the past week?'_

Krad knew full well the hectic schedule his host had been entertaining for the previous five or so days, and knew just as well how much it had meant to the boy to finally have a day to himself after putting in all the long hours, with schoolwork and tutoring and occasionally letting his curse have a bit of fun chasing Dark. Whatever this "dream" had been—it had either been very frightening or very…shall we say, "entertaining". Krad hoped, with a devious twinkle, that it had been the latter.

As luck would have it for the poor boy, his simple confession that he'd been woken up by a dream had not deterred Krad from continuing to press him for details, and eventually he drew out his trump card of threatening to find out on his own again, and Satoshi gave in with an annoyed growl, pounding a fist into the mattress. "It was…about…about…it was about _you_, dammit…"

Had Krad physical lungs at the moment, they would have most likely had the air forced from them, and he might have slipped into a dead faint even there. As it was, though, the only evidence that he was shocked by the revelation was a noticeable widening of his eyes.

Surely…no, no that just wasn't possible. There were millions, billions, trillions—the number of astral threads in the universe was _impossible_ to calculate, so the probability that two would by chance cross was even more impossible to determine. That his own and his host's had crossed somehow in the night…had met unknowingly on the astral plane was…it was _ludicrous_. But…if it _had_ happened…however it may have been…then it would certainly explain many strange nuances he'd picked up on during their night together.

If it had happened…_how_? Could it have been, he conjectured, some glorious by-product of the astral training the two had engaged in just over a week before? Or perhaps—simply another perk of the host/curse relationship?

Satoshi was still mentally berating himself, regretting giving Krad some bit of information that could be used against him, revealing a weakness, so he missed the shiver of excitement that rippled through the image before him as it suddenly hit the blonde: It had _really_ been Satoshi-sama…not just a fantasy, not a mere phantom image that he endowed with Satoshi-sama's body, but his own, his precious host.

But…he couldn't be sure—it might have been cruel coincidence (though it was still erotically flattering to think that somewhere in the boy's mind lurked images of himself and his host in…compromising "positions"). When Satoshi finally looked up to gauge Krad's reaction, he was a little surprised that he hadn't _immediately_ begun exploiting the upperhand he held in the conversation right now. Too soon, though, did it seem he thought this.

'…_Tell me about it_…_'_

This about finished the conversation before it even started properly, and Satoshi blew up in his face, "Wha—have you _completely_ lost your mind! There is absolutely _no way_ on heaven or earth that I am going to tell you anything about tha—"

'_Have you forgotten, Satoshi-sama?'_ He smiled down at him, leaning forward, _'Think of it merely as a polite request if you like—I do not need your consent really.'_

A moment's mental debate passed again, and then, "…_Fine_…" The last thing he wanted was Krad rummaging around through his private thoughts until he ran over the previous night's dream (which brought to mind just why the _hell_ he'd had a dream like _that_ in the first place—with _Krad_ of all people!). Knowing him, he'd enjoy it to no end and replay it countless times until the images burned into his consciousness. Oh yes, that was _definitely_ not happening.

Satoshi waded slowly, like a swimmer testing unknown waters, into the retelling of the dream, concentrating all his energies into making the…_encounter_…seem as benign as possible—when he himself knew full well it had been anything _but_ benign. Try as he might to prevent an embarrassed flush from betraying him, it seemed to have become a permanent addition to his skin tone by now and simply would not fade—particularly when he most wanted it to, as when explaining his phantom Krad's tortuously slow (of course, he didn't admit to it being "torturously" so) methods of foreplay, or when revealing how very innocent his own actions and emotions had seemed to his now-conscious mind.

"It wasn't…right. But…in a dream it always seems fine, like it's normal to do things, to submit to things your waking self would _never_ think of engaging in—and I don't think I can stress enough that _this_ was a perfect example of something I would _never_ do, so don't _even_ get any ideas about it."

'_Oh, naturally—of course, of course_…_'_ the image agreed, obviously patronizing the poor child, and earned a harsh look. _'I'm sorry—I've interrupted you. Do continue.'_ It was amusing him to no end to see his normally unruffled host fidgeting madly with the pillowcase beside him, quite uneasy with the situation.

"…You…y—" He gulped nervously, struggling to dislodge the lump that had formed from his own nervousness in his throat, "You…st—started…kissing, down from my neck, and across my chest, going…_so slow_…and you said… 'Tell me to keep going,' and so I…I said it… Then you told me to say it again, so I did, and all the while you kept kissing, all over my chest, down across my stomach, but you—you slowed down, even when I kept telling you to go on, and you kept—kept _torturing_ me with it, and then you _stopped_…and…and…"

He hadn't noticed it, but he'd plunged deeper into this part of the retelling than any other area thus far—perhaps because it had been this scene which had burned in his mind more than any other, the final tormenting few steps to an exhilarating climax—

Eyes widening when he snapped back to his senses, Satoshi fell over to his side and buried his head in the pillow, moaning in disgust with himself at letting his thoughts get carried away so easily—weak, weak, _weak_! No, he _couldn't_ get caught up in those thoughts again—it was even _more_ material for Krad to work with, to harass him with, another weak spot where the blonde could get a firm foothold.

'…_And then what happened, Satoshi-sama?'_

Lifting a weary head, he speared the still-smirking image with a harsh gaze. "…What do you _think_ happened next? Damn perverted bastard…" He pushed his body back to an upright position with considerable effort, suddenly feeling more tired than he'd felt even the previous evening. Not meeting the blonde's gaze, he finished, annoyed, "Well? Does it make you _happy_? Have you bothered me enough for one morning?"

Krad smiled contentedly, suppressing the triumphant smirk he wanted to project—Satoshi, as far as he knew, didn't have even the slightest inkling that this encounter existed anywhere outside his own mind. The boy was under the full belief that he himself had willingly engaged in what was for all intents and purposes simple "dream sex." And this in turn had planted a tiny seed in his mind—a seed of doubt that perhaps…perhaps what he felt for Krad was no longer mere hatred or dislike…perhaps there was some deeper desire…that perhaps he _wanted_ to feel more for his curse than what he felt now.

Yes, just as he had planted kiss after kiss on that lovely flesh the night before…now he would leave this seed in Satoshi's mind: If it wasn't broken, he wasn't going to repair the boy's faulty assumption by revealing that it was only _half_ of him making the dream up.

For even if it had been a dream—or in Krad's case, a fantasy—as simple a physiological state as that, in it he could _touch_ his Satoshi-sama, could taste him, could consume him, could be engulfed in flames of passion that burned brighter and fiercer than all the circles of heaven and hell combined…

Taking a measured step forward, Krad leaned down to peer into the same stormy blue eyes that had stared so longingly up at him the night before—and in them both he could detect that faint glimmer that pulsed "_Satoshi_". In a move that might have been considered bold even for him, he reached forward and cupped a phantom gloved hand underneath the chin, running his astral fingers softly along the smooth cheekbone which could not feel him anymore.

'_Then tell me, Satoshi-sama_…_how could something that felt so good_…_be bad?'_

While all thought and reason inside him clamored for the boy to pull away, to rebuff the audacious advances this curse of his was engaging in, something held him fast, barely able to breathe let alone move away, and he watched as if a prisoner in his own mind as the face moved in closer, off to the side, rubbing their cheeks together and nuzzling him.

'_Isn't a dream_…_simply an unbound reflection of your deepest desires_…_?'_ A pause, and he moved to the other side, repeating the action with his other cheek. _'Isn't a dream_…_anything but a dream_…_?'_

Still Satoshi was caught in the web that would not release him—but all the while his own internal efforts grew less and less trying, as if he were unconsciously beginning to give in and accept the advances made upon him. True enough—it was growing increasingly difficult to stop images from the dream from pounding into his mind with the force of a tidal wave, or to stop his own skin from shuddering under the phantom touch he could not even feel, as if remembering how those brilliant fingers _really_ felt as they played across the sensitive skin of his neck.

'_Never forget, Satoshi-sama_…_'_ He moved his attentions now to the forehead, and Satoshi sighed in mental relief that his curse was not taking full advantage of his current "shocked into silence" state. _'In the end, it was you_…_'_

Phantom lips that he could almost _swear_ he could feel were barely gracing his forehead. _'In the end, it was you_…_who urged_…_me on_…_'_

Deep blue eyes widened, but just as he was about to cry out and demand an explanation, the image faded into the depths of his consciousness, leaving him with only a ghost of a laughing voice tinkling in his mind.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ Well, I hope those of you who were wondering if there was ever gonna be any real action in this fic or just lots of drawn-out melodramatics are satisfied :D Not to say that this is the end or anything, but it should keep you sated for a while. For those of you unfamiliar with Dark's song, _Kodou_, I highly recommend getting a copy; it's floating around the net, and everything about it, from the lyrics to the beat, completely fit this scene, so please pardon the 'song-fic' feeling to it all if that's not your cup of tea. Lyrics were translated by moi, and thus chances are there are a few errors in them, but I'm grateful for any help if you spot any! 


	11. Carry On, Carry On

_Galatea_

_Eleventh Movement: Carry On, Carry On_

"Whoever blushes confesses guilt; true innocence never feels shame."

Jean Jacques Rousseau

* * *

Pulling the front door open without even checking to see who had buzzed from downstairs, Satoshi was a little surprised to see one of the last people he'd have expected to be calling upon him standing there before him. "Saehara…san?" he tested warily, opening the front door wider and beckoning his guest into his abode. 

The detective gave a curt bow and excused his intrusion as he crossed over the threshold, removing his shoes at the front step-up, and wandered into the living room behind the Hikari boy. "I'm sorry to come by on such short notice—I would've called, but we've been busy down at the station lately, and…"

Satoshi waved him off and offered him a set on the couch, "Not at all, Saehara-san. It's no trouble. Please—would you like some tea? I'm afraid I've not got much more than that to offer a guest right now—"

"Ah no, no…" It was now the detective's turn to wave off his host, "I've actually come for something more than just idle chatter…" His face turned serious—or rather, more serious than it usually was—and Satoshi took this as a clue that they should dive right into whatever conversation the man had in mind, sliding into a seat at the opposite end of the sofa Saehara was situated on.

"As you know," he began in his gruff voice, wringing his hands in front of him, "It's been more than a month now since…since your father's murder." Satoshi nodded, eyes burning holes into the floor. "I don't know how well you've been keeping up with what's been said on the news about it, but…since the night we found him, the search for the culprit has all but ground to a halt. No new clues have surfaced, no new bits of information on a motive, and any suspects we'd had at first have all been cleared and released."

He stopped wringing his hands and instead turned to stare at Satoshi, "But—that wasn't enough for me, to just let something like this rot away inside a police file as an 'unsolved mystery' …So, I…I did some digging into Hiwatari Kei's personal records, from before you joined the force…from before even _he_ joined the force. To see if anyone from his past might have had something to hold against him, and…" He trailed off and began rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "Ah, Hiwatari-san…I came across a packet of…of adoption papers…"

Blue eyes immediately snapped to attention, and like a magnet their gazes were drawn together. Saehara continued hesitantly, unaware of whether or not he was stepping where he shouldn't, "Did you…know you were adopted, Hiwatari-san?"

The boy paused a moment, then in a low voice admitted, "Yes…I did…"

"According to the papers, it was nearly six years ago." A nod, "Where were you…before that? Would you mind telling me anything you know about your biological parents? What was your relationship—or rather, what was Hiwatari's relationship with them?" Satoshi's face washed over with mild confusion at the man's motive, "I'm just investigating the possibility that there might be some connection between the murder and—"

Anger flaring a bit, Satoshi got annoyed and spat out a little more harshly than he'd intended, "Are you implying that my biological parents were the murderers?"

Saehara jumped to defend himself and refute the boy's interpretation of his questions, "No, no! I'm simply investig—"

"I didn't know my parents at all, alright? My father disappeared before I was even born, and my mother died almost immediately following my birth. From then I was raised as a ward of the Hikari Estate, schooled at their northern Academy until age eight when I was adopted by Hiwatari Kei and started high school. I know nothing of them but my mother's name: Hikari Rio."

Saehara's deep brown eyes widened in disbelief—the adoption records hadn't mentioned the child's previous name, so he'd assumed Satoshi had simply been a ward of the state before Hiwatari had adopted him. "Then—_those_ Hikaris! The famous art family, who went into voluntary exile right after the Cultural Revolution? You're—of _their_ line?"

Satoshi nodded solemnly. "As you heard. My biological father may well be dead by now, and my mother most definitely _is_. So I can assure you with no hesitation that my parents had nothing to do with Hiwatari's murder."

Quickly recovering from the shock and filing the new information away to be pieced through at a later time, Saehara redoubled his efforts, "Your mother, I will accept she had nothing to do with this, if she truly is dead, but… How can you be sure that a man you've never met didn't have some hand in this plot? As it is, he's now one of the prime suspects in my book—there are plenty of reasons for him to carry it out, and as the interim head of police it's my duty to examine this as thoroughly as possible. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."

Satoshi made no immediate reply, merely stood and turned away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his school pants he still had on from earlier that day.

"Saehara-san…" he began in his calm, rolling tenor, "…I would not press this investigation further if I were you…"

He didn't even need to turn around to catch the shock Saehara exuded, he could hear the audible gasp, and then the voice running over with disbelief, "…Is that…a _threat_…?"

Turning back around to face the detective fully, Satoshi lowered his head in submission, "No…this is no threat on my part…but, there are aspects to Hiwatari's and my histories that…people outside of my family would not understand. We have…bad blood…shall we say."

Saehara stared up at the boy with the same shocked reverence he usually kept hidden, uncomfortable showing it to a child more than half his age. He conjectured softly, "…You know who killed him, don't you?"

A pause, then, "…Yes…"

"Then you know full well," Saehara continued, trying to pull authority on the boy, "that it is against the law to withhold information that could be tantamount to wrapping up this investigation and putting the perpetrator behind bars—you _know_ it, Hiwatari-san." He pushed himself up off the couch and stared down at the Hikari child, unconsciously trying to intimidate him.

Not about to be miffed, Satoshi countered, "And is _that_ a threat?" Saehara gave no response, but growled a little, perturbed. "Tell me, Saehara-san, how old are you?" The man blinked for a moment at the sudden change in topic, but before he could respond, Satoshi fired another question, "Do you remember, forty years ago, when Dark appeared before the police force of this town, stealing artworks just as he is now?"

Saehara nodded mutely, managing to stutter out, "My grandfather used to tell me about him…I was really too young to be interested in any of that back then."

"Would you believe me if I told you that the Dark from forty years ago and the Dark of today are the same being—immortal in a sense, never aging? The same three hundred years ago as today?"

"Thr—three _hundred_?" Saehara took a step back, and Satoshi one forward.

"Then, if you don't grasp that—tell me this: have you seen the white wings?"

"White…wings…?" He leaned back as Satoshi leaned in—the intimidation of age apparently wasn't working too well for Saehara, who was truthfully starting to become a bit disturbed by the boy's psychological attacks.

"You've seen him, I know—he's been appearing more often lately than he ever has before, I'd wager. You've seen their battles, dark versus light, night and day? The ground littered with black and white feathers that mysteriously dissipate into dust by morning? You've seen him, haven't you?"

"Who is…this '_him_' you keep talking about?"

Satoshi shook his head, "All you could know…is that he is a Hikari supporter—you _do_ understand that it is only Hikari artworks that Dark steals, right? He sees it as an affront on the family's honor, so has taken it upon himself to thwart Dark whenever he can. And…much as I hate to admit it…he really is the only one who ever has had, or ever will have…a chance of beating Dark."

"So…a vigilante with a vendetta, eh?"

"Nothing so crude—wouldn't one normally associate a vigilante with _good_? No…this being may battle Dark, but…he cares not for anyone who gets in his way. Any obstructions blocking him from carrying out his _duty_…have all met with unlucky fates themselves. Hiwatari was one who made the terrible mistake of crossing his path, and wound up paying for it with his own life."

Saehara became animated now, "Well—then, where is he now? You seem to know a lot about him, so tell me, and we can arrest him and end all this!" Had the situation not been so serious, Satoshi would have been inclined to break into raucous laughter at the detective's stereotypical "hero" character.

A devilish smile that served as an outward reflection of an inner soul intermingling with Satoshi's own crept across his cold lips, "He is dead to this world…he cannot be caught, cannot be punished by human means…and you cannot win against him. Dark is nothing—for Dark has morals, qualms, a sense of right and wrong… _He_…does not." Well, it was true enough—Krad had morals of a sort, but certainly not ones that could be construed as _normal_.

Saehara slunk back down to his seat and folded his hands again, getting a bit fed up with the ambiguity and hearing the boy continue to insist that there was nothing that could be done about this. "You know, Hiwatari-san, I _could_ simply get a court order to make you tell the department anything and everything you know about this case…"

Satoshi, too, reassumed his seat beside the detective, "You could," he replied smoothly, not missing a beat, "But then, you would probably not live long." He sighed low and cradled his head in his hands, "You are meddling in affairs that have _nothing_ to do with you, Saehara-san… Hiwatari was meddling as well, and…I don't want to see that happen again if there is anything I can do to prevent it… Especially to you…"

Saehara stood again and gathered his things as if making to leave, but instead he spoke calmly and clearly to Satoshi, "As a commander I grudgingly respected you even though you were less than half my age. I listened to you, followed your orders as best I could, with only the deep-seated trust that you would not lead me astray and would not put me in a situation I could not handle…

"Tell me now that you are telling me the truth—that none of this is simply a ploy to drive me and any other officers off this case—and I will believe you, because I have stood by you all this time and know the real you, know that you would not lie on this to me. Tell me now."

"It's a pity that…you _don't_ know the real me… But I tell you now, abandon this case, Saehara-san. For your own good. Trust that I ask you to do this in good faith. He will be punished, I assure you—but not by you."

The detective merely gave a gruff nod, and with that, he was gone.

* * *

"If he so much as _blinks_, I want him pumped full of bullets, am I understood?" Saehara barked to the ten or so officers on either side of him, smirking at the cornered Dark. "Not quite so cocky now, are you? You're about to get closely acquainted with the Azumano judicial system, Kaitou Dark!" 

It was only the threat that if he even opened his mouth he'd be shot that kept the thief silent, preferring to maintain a stoic mien and intact body than saving his pride. Daisuke was starting to give him a headache with his incessant worrying, and where the _hell_ was With? He was starting to get a little nervous for the fluff ball—after all, the sprite was his only ticket out of here. Well, his only _easy_ ticket. If worse came to worse, there were probably a few tricks he could pull that could help him out of this jam, but none he wanted to risk.

Hell, at this point he half-hoped _Krad_ would pop up and distract Saehara so Dark could—

"That's _my_ prey, human." Dark blinked a few times, warily eyeing the form that dropped to the rooftop. "I thank you for pushing him this far, but I do believe I'll take it from here."

'…_Damn,'_ the thief thought with a smile, _'Maybe if I hope for With to get his furry ass down here, he'll pop up like Mr. Tall-Gold-and-Creepy did_…_'_

There appeared to be no need to do such a thing, as Saehara suddenly shifted his attentions, at least momentarily, from Dark.

"Just what do you think you're doing here?" he growled, and half of the guns trained on Dark dropped away, torn as to whom to threaten now. "This is a crime scene—civilians aren't allowed here! Get back downstairs before you're arrested for interfering here!"

Krad shook his head in mirthful pity—aah, how he'd missed being demeaned by the human police force. "I think that the one who ought to step down for his own good…is _you_." He flashed a sharp golden gaze at the detective, stepping forward quickly until he was right in the man's face. All guns now turned to him, and Krad was mildly impressed that Saehara didn't back down, but held his ground firmly.

"_I'm_ in charge here, and I say—" There was a swift movement in the detective's peripheral vision, followed by the familiar sound of feet slapping against the gravel rooftop as Dark hastened away, leaping off the edge just in time for the recently-arrived-With to latch onto his back and carry him off safely into the night sky. "_Dammit_…" he cursed, fists clenching at his sides, then turned an angry glare to Krad. "I didn't say anything when you duped officers _below_ me into letting Dark get away…but you go too far when you let him get by _me_!"

Krad rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I really doubt my being here had the slightest effect on your efforts to capture the kaitou. Now if you'll excuse me—" He propped his wings open, "—the chase has begun and I'll not waste any more time babbling aimlessly with you humans." Turning his gaze to follow Dark's fleeting form trawling lazily along towards the Niwa home, he crouched low and prepared to take wing, when a chorus of clicks reached his ears.

"Same orders for this one as for Dark," Saehara announced, boring his gaze into Krad's, "He so much as drops a feather, take him out."

"I _really_ don't have time for this—put your weapons away. _Now_."

The detective stepped forward and leaned into Krad's face, anger evident in his features. "I don't give a damn whether or not you have _time_." He spared a nervous glance to the wings, still open and wavering back and forth in the light breeze as the Hikari curse steadied himself. "Whatever you are…you've stuck your nose in police business one too many times, and I'll have you take some responsibility for it."

His hand shot forward and gripped Krad by the wrist, jerking him forward towards the other waiting officers. As Saehara had his back turned, he missed the murderous look flash across the blonde's features as he fought back the urge to fell the detective then and there.

Digging his boots into the gravel, he hastily jerked his arm back and growled, "How _dare_ you touch me!" He spun Saehara around with lightning celerity and gripped the man by the collar, lifting him up until he was standing on his toes.

"Don't—don't shoot!"

Krad smiled at the hastily babbled order, pulling Saehara nearer so that they could converse in whispered tones. "You've deprived me of my chase tonight…I'm not allowed them often, you know… I should very much like something in compensation." Saehara remained tight-lipped. "Perhaps I should simply toss you off the side of this building, ne? A nice long fall down to contemplate the ramifications of your detaining me?" He took a step backwards, pulling Saehara with him, "How does that sound?"

The detective had but a moment to consider just what Krad was proposing before the blonde clenched his eyes shut tightly, stopping in his tracks and shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "St—stop it! Sat—cease your infernal _nagging_!" Saehara blinked, confused. "I wasn't—but he—!"

As if he'd been shocked by the detective, Krad released him and shoved him away with all speed, sinking to one knee and clamping his hands to the sides of his head. "_There_! Just—stop—"

The detective wasn't quite sure what to make of the scene and waved a hand behind him for the officers to lower their guns. After a moment, the blonde angel before them stopped his shaking and quieted, slowly rising to stand back upright. He turned a hard gaze to Saehara, graceful features twisted into a frighteningly fierce frown.

"Fine…" he huffed, uncharacteristically bereft of breath, and narrowed his gaze at the man. "But I'm only letting you live because _he_ asked me to…" Before Saehara could ponder just who "he" was that Krad was referring to, the white wings crashed downward with a single furious beat, flinging gravel into the air and momentarily blinding the officers before they could even aim. With a few more down-strokes, Krad had risen a good ways into the air and was winging his way back to the apartment.

"Just leave him…" Saehara sighed, defeated, as he watched the white-winged form flit away—depriving him of anything to show for the night's work. He ordered his men back downstairs so that they could wrap this evening up, offering a weak apology to the curator, who was seething at having the prize exhibit stolen not a week after it had come in.

He climbed into the back of the long black limousine waiting in the courtyard and ordered the driver to make for the downtown precinct—after all, he still had a report to file for presentation to his superiors the next morning. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and sighed softly.

"_But I'm only letting you live because he asked me to…"_

He twitched—what about that simple statement had bothered the detective so?

"_Then, if you don't grasp that—tell me this: have you seen the white wings?"_

Troubled brown eyes shot open, brows knitting in worry. "…There's no way…"

"Who is…this '_him_' you keep talking about?" he'd asked of the boy, and remembered now that he hadn't exactly received a straight answer. Things were starting to get a bit too coincidental for Saehara's comfort, and each conclusion he drew was more disturbing than the last. Eventually, though, he settled for doing exactly as he'd been asked and dropping the matter; he _did_ trust Satoshi not to divert him from a situation the detective was capable of handling.

"You really are full of mysteries, Hiwatari Satoshi-san… I just hope you can handle them."

* * *

'_You're going to be late if you dawdle much longer, you know_… _The notice said 9 o'clock, and it'spast 8:30 now_…_'_

"I know, I know…" It was over a week later, now, and the night of Krad's final advance notice was at hand—he had to prove himself tonight or risk being forced back into Satoshi's mind for good, as per his word. Krad dusted invisible dirt from his long robes, readjusting his sash in front of the closet mirror and turning around to view himself from all sides, "But it certainly won't hurt anything to give him a chance to think he's home free tonight… I rather like making grand entrances, you know. And I've not missed a battle with him yet since our agreement."

'_Right, right_…_'_ Satoshi relented his reminders, convincing himself that even if Krad _was_ late, it was all for the better—these late-night battles at every museum or old house Dark had sent a warning notice to had apparently started to take their toll on Daisuke, who hadn't been in very good shape to sustain injury in the first place like Satoshi.

Krad frowned at his reflection and lowered his arms from trying to straighten his cravat—it was a losing battle. The garment simply didn't seem made for the physical plain, and it was dreadfully restricting right now, stifling despite the chill outside Satoshi's apartment.

'_Are you quite done yet? That's got to be the fifth time you've messed with that thing—and it's just going to get in the way in the fight anyway—'_

"Patience, Satoshi-sama, patience…" He rubbed his chin in thought and cocked his head at his reflection, a devious grin lighting up his golden eyes, "I've got a whim I'd like to indulge."

'_A "whim"_…_?'_

Having not yet pulled on his gloves, Krad reached up to the dratted cravat and slowly untied it, pulling it from around his neck and letting it fall to the floor—where it dissipated into fine astral dust before touching down. With it disposed of, he let his fingers fall down to unbuckle the belt at his waist, whipping it off in a single fluid motion.

His heavy jacket now hung free from his shoulders, drooping down, and he deftly slid his arms from it and let it too fall with a soft _poof_ onto the floor, watching in amusement as it dissolved into dust like the other articles of clothing. Turning his eyes back to the mirror, he noted that he could probably keep this undershirt—it was a light fabric that didn't restrict his movement in the least.

But, while he was at this, he might as well have _some_ fun…

'_What're_…_you doing? Krad?'_

"What does it look like, Satoshi-sama? I'm changing clothes."

A pause, as his Tamer no doubt ran the statement over in his mind, perplexed at associating Krad with some fashion connoisseur who tried on outfit after outfit before deciding on some extravagant ensemble.

'_But_…_why? You always wear the same thing—'_

"And that's precisely the reason—after three hundred years I'm a little bored. Like I said, it's simply a whim, I felt like doing something different tonight." He paused a moment, arms crossed as he stared into the mirror, then pressed, "Do you have some objection to that, Satoshi-sama?"

'_Of—of course_ _not! Why would I—I mean, why would I care?' _His defensive mental voice only served to make Krad smile, though, and he shrugged and continued with his ritual.

His hands flew up to his neck and teased the top button, and he could feel something stirring in the back of his mind—he smiled devilishly. There was no way he would fight Dark unprotected by his astral wear—but what that astral wear covered was entirely up to him, so why not see how far his chain stretched until Satoshi-sama reined him in?

The first one popped off, and he could feel a cool breeze flowing in from the window caressing his exposed neck now—a sensation he could never experience in the astral plane. The next lower button soon followed, and another right below that, until a triangle of the flesh of his upper pectoral area stood exposed to the elements, the skin—pale as it was—still contrasting with the thin shirt, hardly disguising any curves he touted.

He closed his eyes and let his fingers rest on the next button, lips curling into a knowing smile.

"…Do you like what you see, Satoshi-sama?"

An inaudible gasp shook his mind, reverberating through his being as his host's consciousness erupted, _'Wha—NO! I wasn't—I mean, I was just—you thought I was watching!'_

"No…" Krad responded slowly, a perfect mirror to Satoshi's wound-up present mental state. "I _know_ you were—" He dropped his hands to rest on his hips and leaned forward so that even more of his chiseled chest was reflected for the boy behind his eyes to see, "Shall I do it more slowly, or did you get a good enough look the first time around?" Though he could not see the reaction, he would have bet the entire Hikari fortune that his host was blushing a more violent red than the Niwa boy's hair color.

Satoshi wanted to offer another scathing retort to this, but checked himself before the thought left his form and entwined itself in Krad's consciousness—it was, he assured himself, merely a ploy on the blonde's part to rile him up even more…Forgetting the fact that…well, he _had_ been watching…but it—it wasn't anything like _that_! Really!

…Really, it…it wasn't like he'd meant to stare…at first. He'd just, never seen Krad change clothes—more so, he'd never seen Krad do _anything_ that was, well, _normal_. It seemed all he'd thought his curse capable of was throwing punches and taunting him. When he stood in front of that mirror, so open, simply another human stripping to change outfits, as normal as can be…it was like this was a completely different being from…from the person who'd killed his father.

He shifted his attentions from those thoughts back to Krad, pondering if he'd finished yet—but it seemed far from it. He was only now drawing on a waistcoat (where had that thing come from anyway? It certainly wasn't from Satoshi's closet). The material seemed fine as silk, and he would dare conjecture it _was_. It shone with the tell-tale sheen of that fabric, appearing not solid but a liquid concoction of some molten metal, charcoal gray in hue. It provided a sharp contrast to the button-up shirt beneath it, still open and exposing his chest—wait…

'_You're not going to take that undershirt off?'_ he questioned innocently. While his curse was changing his wardrobe, why hadn't he gone "full out" on this whim of his?

…Wait a minute…had he just asked…

Yes, yes he had, he suddenly realized, when two golden eyes slowly lifted their gaze from trying to adjust two buttons on the vest to look directly through into Satoshi inside, and Krad smiled his most devious smile yet, "Did you just ask me…to take off my shirt, _Satoshi-sama_?" he queried almost giddily, and for the second time in five minutes the Hikari boy exploded into an explanation to refute it.

'_LIKE HELL! You just—you misunderstood me! AGAIN! I—I just meant, dammit—if you're changing everything I didn't understand why you left that on too! THAT'S ALL! And you were unbuttoning it, so I thought you were going to—'_

"Strip for you?" Krad could start to feel the blush burn through and sear his own cheeks, though it was through no action of his own, simply the strengthened feelings of his Tamer spanning planes. "Really, Satoshi-sama, all you had to do was ask…"

'_You did that on purpose! You started unbuttoning that damn shirt knowing I'd wonder that! DIDN'T YOU?'_

Krad's expression waxed innocent, a very odd face indeed for the blonde to wear, "You really think I'd sink that low, simply to draw a reaction from you?"

'_YES.'_

Face softening into a light smile, he simply replied, "You can be so adorable at times, Satoshi-sama. It's very becoming—you should indulge that side of you more often." He could still feel the frustration-meter inside rising, and continued nonchalantly, "But don't take it so _seriously_…you speak as if I should be offended or something that you were watching me, when you of all people should know I don't care."

There was a pause, and Krad finished the buttons on the vest, straightening it in the mirror, and deeming it a fine contrast to his white breeches and undershirt—now, for the coat.

"After all, wouldn't you think it a tad hypocritical of me, if when I watch you so often, I rebuffed you when _you_ watched _me_? It's rather something of an honor, you know—that you would gift me your attention if but for a few moments."

Grimacing inwardly at the admission, Satoshi pondered mentally, _'You_…_watch me?'_

Krad stared into the mirror and smiled again, "As I said before, you really can be so adorable in your innocence, Satoshi-sama…even if it is feigned."

With that he turned his attentions to the airspace to his left and held his hands out full in front of him, palms facing outward, and closed his golden eyes in abject concentration. A waistcoat was one thing, but a full pleated coat would require a bit more work on his part—just a _bit_ more, mind you.

His long mane danced in a breeze from nowhere, flying out behind him as a tiny tornado materialized before him, a wind vortex leading to the astral plane. Eyes shooting open, Krad thrust a hand in and gripped his fist tight over a sheet of material, yanking it into the physical realm with a great tug.

Staggering backwards, quickly banishing the vortex away, he held the jacket out full in front of him, admiring it from afar. "Not bad at all, I think…what do you say, Satoshi-sama?"

Shooting back to attention, Satoshi too eyed the garment (so _that_ must have been where the mysterious waistcoat came from…), but after sticking his foot into his mouth once already, he deemed it unwise to make another comment for fear he'd undergo even more teasing. He instead opted to sit in a corner of Krad's consciousness and sulk until the night was over, but this didn't seem to bother his curse in the least.

"Well, silence is consent, I suppose." With that he whipped the jacket around and slid his arms into it. It was shorter than his previous one, allowing him better movement, and more open as well, tapering at the waist to flare out into two tail sections at the hem. The white color, embroidered with elaborate braiding near the cuffs, seemed to compact his body, connecting with the white undershirt, yet still contrasting with his charcoal waistcoat.

Giving himself one more glance over, he finally deemed himself prepared to battle Dark once more and shot his eyes to the clock on the bedstand—8:50, ten minutes to reach the museum. He stepped over to one of Satoshi's large bay windows, boots clopping loudly on the hardwood floor, and flung one open, letting the cool early-Spring night breeze ruffle his hair.

He closed his eyes again for concentration, and muttered a soft numbing spell before calling forth the great white wings he was blessed with from the astral plane where they normally rested. He had to turn around slightly to acknowledge their emergence, since he could not feel them while under the numbing spell (though this was more desirable than actually feeling the things rip from his back, a sensation he'd subjected Satoshi to countless times before, now regretting them all).

The wonderful thing about the astral materials he was now clad in was that even when they suffered damage—say, holes, from two huge wings ripping through his shirt—any successive time he wore them they would be repaired, good as new. Physical attacks seldom damaged astral threads, so they could always be rewoven.

Stretching the appendages in preparation, he let his eyes wander over the night skyline of the Azumano district, a dark sea of oblivion mottled with bright blips of light, signaling life in the seemingly dead shadows.

"Satoshi-sama…" he called tentatively, and he could sense the boy stirring from his corner, annoyed at being called.

'_What is it now?'_

Krad paused, almost afraid to ask his question, but it had really been quite some time, and…well…

"Do you…hate me still?"

He could feel the Hikari child tensing up like a drawn bowstring, pulling himself inwards and avoiding any contact with Krad's own consciousness, afraid of contact…but for an unknown reason. _'I_…_'_

He…what? Satoshi himself had to ponder the question—_"Do you hate me still?"_ He remembered only too well the previous occasion on which Krad had asked him this question, and also remembered his scathing (yet he believed still it was correct) retort of "Yes".

But that was then, over a month ago—and though that may not seem like a long time at first, so much had _happened_ in that month. He'd quit the police, all but cut himself off from Niwa, let Krad battle Dark whenever he wanted, lost a father, gained a father-figure in Niwa Kosuke…

And Krad himself…had changed… With each new day was some new aspect revealed to him, some side he'd never noticed before—or else refused to notice. Ever since their compromise, he'd become more tolerable, no—before that, even. He would dare even say that Krad had begun to change when Satoshi's feelings had been invalidated by the Niwa boy, "freeing" him from any challenge.

_Did_ he really…hate him? Like he hated him before, with a deep rage that never ran tepid, that burned him, ate away at his soul, hounded him until he just didn't want to hate anymore? Did he still hate Krad—like that?

'_I_…_don't know_…_anymore_…_'_

He could feel the corners of Krad's mouth twitching upwards—the sure beginnings of a smile, and he spoke softly, content, "Then…that is enough for now…" and took off into the night sky.

* * *

Well, _this_ was certainly something new. 

He knew, even as he felt control over his body being ceded back, that he would have to face Krad and give him an answer. He'd allowed him his three advance notices, as he'd said he would, and those three notices had come and gone, as notices tended to. With one problem, on this last one…

The blonde slipped into his astral form almost as soon as he'd lost control over his Tamer's body, eager to get on with their conversation. Satoshi could almost physically feel the anticipation radiating from his curse as he steadied himself from his seat on the bed. Krad stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back, staring down at his host expectantly.

Satoshi closed his eyes and sighed, making every effort not to acknowledge the fact that Krad had done, for the first time this incarnation, that which the Hikari boy himself couldn't do:

He'd actually managed to save an artpiece.

Ridiculous! Without _killing_ or terminally maiming his enemy, the blonde had finally thwarted Dark and kept him from his current quarry, the _Yami no Yari_—another of the Hikari war-works. The Ragun Museum had been ringed in police cars, with officers stationed at every entrance—there had even been a group guarding the coveted spear itself!

Maybe it had been because there was no Officer Norita to distract him this time; maybe Dark hadn't been feeling well, or perhaps it had been Niwa who'd been the sick one—there was that cold going around, after all. Perhaps it had just been pure damn luck and underestimation on Dark's part.

Or was that not the case at all? Could it have simply been that Krad was more motivated this notice? That he had more to lose? It _had_ been the last he'd stipulated he'd allow unless the blonde gave him good reason not to. Irregardless…

He just couldn't look up into those eyes, didn't want to see them all but _smirking_ in triumph and waiting for some acknowledgement, couldn't _stand_ admitting that yes—he'd been bested, beaten by his own curse.

Didn't he have _something_ he could distract himself with? Yes—yes, there were those exams coming up, and surely his tutoring charges would be pleased with some sort of study guide, right? Of course they would. He would get right on that.

Satoshi heaved himself up quickly and slipped out the door, nearly crashing right through the image as it struggled to be noticed. If he'd glanced up at Krad's face as he brushed past, he might have noticed the features twist into something akin to a pout, then wash back normal as the blonde changed his line of attack.

Gathering up his papers and books by the door, Satoshi slumped onto his couch, donning his glasses for no particular reason other than to simply place another barrier between himself and Krad. He picked up the first book he set his hands on—_Masters of the Neo-Renaissance: The Cultural Revolution in Northern Japan_—and began hastily leafing through it, highlighting a few sentences every now and then.

He could feel those curious golden eyes boring into the top of his head, eyeing him hungrily as a cat might eye a little mouse it was playing with. _'Don't rise to the bait,'_ Satoshi warned himself, _'Just keep ignoring him—you know he's not gonna ask you outright, so if you just keep your mouth shu—'_

"What do you _want_?" _Dammit_…

And to his surprise, Krad gave no verbal response, prompting the boy to slowly turn his gaze up to view the image lounging at the opposite end of the sofa. _'Ah, nothing really_…_'_ came the slow reply, and the blonde crossed his arms, gaze drifting aimlessly around the room as if he had nothing better to occupy his time with. _'Just wondering—that's all. Wondering what you thought Dark's next target might be. Since, after all, he failed to obtain the Yami no Yari.'_

Satoshi gave an involuntary twitch and slammed the book shut, moving on to the next one.

'_Why are you working on schoolwork at a time like this, Satoshi-sama?' _The boy jumped in surprise and whipped his head around—Krad was standing behind him now, looking over his shoulder. Frowning at the interruption, Satoshi settled back in his seat. _'You must be tired after all that fighting I did with Dark this evening. Rescuing that work and all_…_'_

Satoshi desperately wished he had a desk to bang his head on at that moment. _Why_ did his curse insist on doing all this begging for his attention tonight? He'd acknowledge the deed when he was good and ready! Sitting straight up, he gave up on looking through the new book he held and reached over to the table for a packet of notes he'd prepared.

Except Krad had his image in the way, right on top of his papers. "I can't see—_move_," Satoshi grumbled. When his curse didn't immediately comply, he sighed loudly and looked up with a glare, not too surprised to see a mischievous grin playing along the lips of the blonde. "I said _move_, dammit. I have work to do."

The grin faltered a bit, but Krad would not be put off so easily. _'I understand. I'm quite tired myself. I'd help you file those if I could, but I've already been out this evening, you know. Fighting Dark_…_beating Dark_…_'_

Gods, could his curse _be_ any more obvious? Subtlety didn't appear to be Krad's strong point. Deciding it was too late and giving up on trying to get any work done for the rest of the evening, he shoved his papers off beside him and stood up, hands fisted at his sides.

What was he supposed to say? Was he expected to offer the blonde a blinding smile and mental pat on the back? Should he, instead, forgive him all his trespasses thus far for this one accomplishment? Was this supposed to show Satoshi the "good" side of his curse?

Grudgingly, he looked up at Krad, who was all but bouncing in place awaiting his judgment. "I…" He reached down to fiddle with the hem of his shirt in a nervous habit. After swallowing a few more times, he gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath.

"Well…well done." Swallow. "I was…pleased with…your performance—with your protecting the piece!" he quickly amended the statement, well aware that he would do well not to supply the blonde with any potentially innuendo-laden remarks. Especially remarks meant to praise.

The golden eyes danced merrily, and Krad didn't even attempt to hide the smile that now crept over his features. _'_…_And?'_ Satoshi narrowed his eyes in confusion—had he not already offered enough on his approval? _'_…_About_…_the next notice?'_

Oh yes, that.

He slumped back down onto the couch, letting his head fall wearily onto the cushions. Covering his eyes with an arm so that he wouldn't have to look at Krad directly, he muttered just loud enough to be heard, "…If I let you out again…will you stop being so damn _bothersome_?"

Krad blinked a few times in rapid succession, _'Well you weren't quick to start any conversation regarding tonight's notice—someone had to.'_ He settled down on his knees, leaning forward until his face was uncomfortably close to Satoshi's own, who'd uncovered his eyes when he sensed his curse moving about. _'So does that mean you'll let me? That you were proud of how I behaved this evening, and so you're considering a repeat performance?'_

Satoshi pushed himself up—half in indignation and half to put some distance between himself and his curse, "I didn't say I was _pr_—stop putting words in my mouth!"

Krad leered, not moving from his spot. _'Then what would you have me place in it, Satoshi-sama?'_

Red burst forth across the boy's cheeks, and he shook with anger. "You are _this _close to making me drop that agreement again—I _swear_ I will, you damn pervert. Don't think I forgot how you made me tell you about that—that—stupid _dream_. Because I _know_ you had something to do with it, and if I ever find out _what_,I'll find some way to keep you from so much as _projecting_. I'd beat you to within an inch of your life if I could touch you—"

'_Ooh, what a tease, you are, Satoshi-sama,'_ was the witty reply. _'I'll bet you say that to all the family curses.' _The glare simply hardened, and Krad finally backed off, pushing himself into a standing position and holding his hands up in defeat. _'I yield! A simple statement to reassure me that our accord is still standing and I will leave you for the evening.'_

"Fine—whatever," he blew the blonde off, "When Dark sends out his next notice, I'll allow you to attempt to stop him again—"

'_But I beat him this time, don't you remem—?'_

"_Now_ will you leave me alone? I told you what you wanted to hear."

Krad stood stock still for a moment, looking down at his host, then gave a low bow and broke into a soft smile, causing the boy to unconsciously shiver. _'With pleasure, Satoshi-sama. Thank you.' _With that, he flickered from existence, retreating into his tiny cloister in a corner of the Hikari child's mind.

When he was finally sure he was alone, Satoshi allowed himself the grace of a small smile, one he wouldn't have dared allow Krad to see. In a way, it had been amusing to see his curse's vain attempts to win his attentions for a moment rather than forcibly taking them as he usually did. Krad had waited—not patiently—for Satoshi to start the conversation, and that…actually meant something to the boy.

Yes, it meant something…he just didn't know what.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ Well, it certainly seems you all enjoyed the last chapter; I'll have to keep that in mind for the future grin Thanks SO much for these great reviews, guys, it feels wonderful to see your reactions to the little twists and turns the story takes, and the fanart was great! Hahaa, this is the first story I've ever gotten fanart for, and that really means a lot to me. I must say the next few chapters are my personal favorite ones, so I hope you all enjoy them as well. Next week: Remember that ring Kosuke gave Satoshi...? 


	12. A Night on the Town

Galatea

_Twelfth Movement: A Night on the Town_

"The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity."

_Ellen Parr_

* * *

'_Ne_…_Satoshi-sama_…_'_ a golden voice piped up innocently one evening after their concord had been reestablished, as Satoshi was putting together a key for a practice test he'd prepared for a few of his tutoring charges. 

Not pausing his question writing, he prodded, "What?" and flipped forward a few pages in the textbook he had currently settled in his lap, running a thin finger down a list of terms.

'_Are you_…_getting bored?'_

"Bored?" Satoshi parroted, not quite getting the question, "Putting this key together isn't the most stimulating of activities, I _will_ give you that."

He could sense the wavering in his mind, though, as Krad waved him off, _'No no—not this. I meant_…_with Dark. Last time, when we went out_…_you didn't say anything the whole time_…_'_ He warily paused, and tested, _'Did I do something out of line? Or were you simply tired, or—'_

"There's no reason for me to pay any attention during the fights nowadays, you know that. You didn't do anything out of line, so stop worrying. I just…didn't see the need to be looking over your shoulder and commenting the whole time." He set down the pencil and shifted the papers off to the side, bending forward to pick up another stack to leaf through. "I trust you enough that you're not going to kill Niwa even if I don't watch your…every…move…"

He paused in shock at his own statement, hand hovering in the air over the papers he had reached for, brows knitting in uncertainty. Had he just said…what he'd thought he'd said? In his mind, he could sense the same shocked silence and querying of whether or not his curse had heard correctly. It had just…rolled off his tongue so easily, he hadn't even given the words a second thought. But looking back…there was so much hidden meaning.

_I trust you_

Trust was…not something he was sure he was entirely ready to give to Krad…was he? Could he stand being vulnerable in any way before the demon in the hopes that whatever had changed in him of late was enough that Satoshi wouldn't feel betrayed once again, wouldn't feel used, abused? Really, what _was_ he basing this thought of trust on?

Before he could answer his own question, a hesitant wave roiled through his mindscape, shimmering uncertainly, _'You_…_trust me, Satoshi-sama?'_ The boy recoiled unconsciously at the question, still unsure of his answer and whether or not it was true or simply a product of quick speaking.

'_I've_…_done little to merit your trust, you know_…_'_

Satoshi _wanted_ to spit back something harsh along the lines of "Damn straight," but his tongue was halted—he didn't want to make the same mistake of rashly barking out a statement and later regretting it, so instead he paused a moment and gathered his thoughts.

"Well…like I said," he gulped, mouth dry, "You've been fine fighting Dark, and nothing bad's happened with him. And we've been…I guess doing fine, so—so is it really that…that strange? I just—it's too much work to watch you all the time!" He finished in a huff, growing uncomfortable with explaining himself off the top of his head when he didn't even know how he really felt about the trust issue in the first place.

But he _hadn't_ been lying when he'd spoken about growing lax in keeping tabs on his curse as he battled Dark almost weekly. Krad had made the compromise quite some time ago, and so far it was working—until the blonde gave him another reason not to trust him, he…could do pretty much nothing _but_ that.

'_So_…_then, you do? Trust me?'_

"I said _yes_—now stop bugging me about it before I change my mind!" He pasted his usual frown back on and slumped into the couch, pulling the papers up with him and returning to preparing the test key.

Not five minutes had passed, though, before he was once again interrupted—though this time Krad caught his attention by simply phasing into his vision, adopting his astral form and settling onto the opposite edge of the couch.

"Something else I can help you with? I'm never going to get this done, you know." The blonde head turned slowly to stare at his Tamer, and Satoshi got a bit nervous under the intense gaze, "Wh—what? What is it now?"

'_Satoshi-sama_…_'_ The voice was soft at first, but quickly found a firm footing, _'Do you_…_remember the ring you were given? The one by Niwa Kosuke? Shortly after_…_after your father's funeral? Do you remember it?'_

After a few rapid blinks, Satoshi's mind started working and he sifted through his memory to answer the random question posed by his curse. Ring…ring…after the funeral had been—detention! And the envelope Kosuke had given to Daisuke to pass on to him, with the letter and…the ring! "I…yeah—yeah I remember it now. I think I put it…" He paused as he checked his memory again, "…In the jewelry box—in my top dresser drawer. Should still be there—I never had to use it, or knew what to even use it _for_ really…" He ran his eyes over Krad's form warily, "…Why? 'S there something wrong with it? Why'd you bring it up?"

A smile containing barely concealed excitement spread over the blonde's features, _'Go get it—I want_…_I want to try something.'_ It wasn't a command, more of an urging, and Satoshi frowned, still confused, but in the end gave in anyway. He set the papers down again and pushed up off the couch, wandering into his room with Krad's image following like a faithful puppy at his heels. He sifted through the top drawer and eventually pulled out a small black box and settled back onto the bed with it, lifting the lid. Inside were various trinkets he rarely saw, a few rings, a pocket watch, even a brooch he'd been told belonged to his mother when she was a child. He shifted aside the watch to open a small side compartment, and pulled out the same small black ring he'd received from Kosuke via his son only a month or so before.

He held it out in his palm for Krad to see and stared at it—it wasn't anything special, from what he could judge, a leaf-like pattern around the band its only distinguishing characteristic.

'_Rutile's companion piece_…_'_ Krad breathed, staring down at the bit of jewelry, and Satoshi's eyes snapped up, waiting for the blonde to clarify what exactly he was talking about. _'The Rutile was made to awaken sleeping powers, magnify them, until they all but engulfed their user—in the wrong hands, or in the hands of one without the knowledge of how to use it, Rutile was quite the deadly Hikari work, but this_…_this is most definitely a Niwa piece_.

'_If Rutile awakens powers_…_this would put them to back sleep. Lock them away—temporarily, at least.'_ His haughtiness could not be kept at bay for too long, it seemed, _'Nothing made by Niwa hands can truly match a Hikari work. But this_…_I must hand it to those thieves, this is no small work.'_ He pulled back up and turned his eyes from the ring to his Tamer, _'Use it, Satoshi-sama—for tonight, use it!'_

Thin brows pulled together in confusion Krad should have seen coming, "Wha—_use_ it! This? But—I—_why_!" He clenched his fingers around the metal band, "Kosuke told me what it was for, in that letter he wrote—I don't need it! Not…not now…" He trailed off, adding simply, "It'd just be like—well, like taking over your body…"

'_Exactly,'_ was the short return, and blue eyes locked onto gold, _'You are a human, Satoshi-sama—a beautiful human—' _he was quick to add,_ '—but a human nonetheless. You have_…_no idea what it's like to be astral, even that form I taught you to take when I manifest—it's completely different being art given life as I am. The thrill and ego that comes with being an immortal, the absolute command and control of Astral, the power, the—the wings even! It's always been something Dark and I have indulged in, have used to battle each other, but_…

'_I want to share it with you.'_ A pause as he gathered himself, _'I want you to be the first Tamer I have given my full and complete trust to—I want to relinquish_…_absolute control over my physical makeup_…_to you. In short, I want you to be able to feel what it's like to be me.'_

Satoshi's eyes widened considerably, and it was all he could do to keep his mouth from hanging open ungracefully. "You want me…to use this ring—to take over your _body_? You—you _want_ me to!" A silent nod, "But I…" He trailed off; he'd _wanted_ to remind Krad that it was stupid to entrust another with that kind of power—Satoshi could do so much in that form that would hurt Krad but not register on his human form, and he might even daresay there was a spell buried somewhere in his adopted father's old books that would allow him to banish his demon then and there simply by being in Krad's form, since the blonde would certainly never try and seal himself.

To place that much trust in his Tamer…was Krad _insane_? Wait—rephrase, was Krad _more insane_ than usual?

"But why…me? Aren't you…afraid? At all? Of…of letting someone else take your body…?" Satoshi certainly was—ever since seeing Dark wreaking havoc in Daisuke's body that time on St. White's Day last year, he'd been a bit uneasy, contemplating the horrors that might ensue if Krad ever figured out how to take him without fully transforming.

'_Because you said you trust me_…_so I want to return it.'_

* * *

"So I guess…I just put it on? Then what?" Satoshi turned the band over in his hand, staring at it warily as if fearing it was about to leap out of his palm and clamp onto his nose. "The note said I'd still transform if you tried…" 

'_But that would be the extent—my own consciousness is not supposed to surface.' _He looked his host over, _'Well? It won't hurt to try at least, will it?'_

Frowning, Satoshi eventually gave in, "Here goes, then…" Picking up the ring with his right hand, he hesitantly lifted it over to his left index finger, treating the metal like a scalding brand he didn't want to touch. Eventually though, whatever reservations had still dwelled in his mind were dispersed, and he slid it on and waited. "So…you try now…to—to take me." He couldn't _believe_ he was actually _asking_ Krad to do this…

The image that had been standing before him dissolved into nothingness, retreating into the unbreachable walls of his own mind, and the boy waited in a confusing mix of anxiety and excitement.

He could sense the cold washing over him as tendrils of Astral were sent out as feelers, exploring the boundaries of his consciousness, with Krad doing his best to nudge aside Satoshi's own mind as gently as possible. This, though, proved to be a more difficult matter than usual.

'_There's_…_I can't do it—there's a barrier of some kind_…_Is this the ring's doing?'_

"H—how should I know?" Satoshi was getting a bit tense at the intrusion upon his mind—it was usually so fast he didn't have _time_ to react to the sensation, didn't have time to linger on the feeling. But it was like sticking a finger down the back of his throat, and he wanted to gag so badly and remove the presence. It was all but impossible to concentrate with that pressure all inside his head where it shouldn't be. "Just—hurry it up! Do _some_thing—don't just sit there in between!"

The presence pushed harder, pressing in all directions as Krad stretched himself to his limits trying to break through the barrier—until eventually, parts of him _did_ get through, but not his usual parts.

'_A filter! It's not a seal—it's a filter!'_ Satoshi, though, had no time to comprehend this epiphany of his curse's, for he was concentrating completely upon the eerie sensation of transforming _without_ retreating back into his little corner of Krad's mind. His legs stretched out longer, arms too, muscling up more than his usual lean build. His chest broadened and his hair—his hair spooled out onto the floor like golden flax until his legs reached a length where the ponytail-bound mane just barely reached his ankles.

All too soon, he felt the changes grind to a halt, and took a tentative breath, eyes darting around the room. "I—is it—_AH_!" He slapped his hands over his mouth, eyes widening—that was…_Krad_'s voice! He had—he had _Krad_'s voice! "I sound…like _you_…!"

Had the curse not been so worn out by the effort of trying to instate himself when blocked by this ring, he might have laughed heartily at the boy's reaction; instead he could only smile wearily from his prison. _'Well—who did you think you'd sound like? That's my body.'_

"Ah—I want to see!" He darted over to the closet full-length mirror like a child on Christmas morning eager to unwrap his presents. His pants, which had been long to begin with, had now crept up another few inches, exposing a bit of his calf, and the material clung more tightly to his muscular thighs now. His shirt mirrored this, stretching over the wider chest and back, with a bit of flesh peeking out every now and then where buttons strained to hold.

Krad had to mentally bite his tongue to keep from making a comment about Satoshi's eyes roaming eagerly over the body he was in now—he didn't want to break the atmosphere! But seeing the now-golden eyes reflected in the mirror darting everywhere, hands running over skin and muscles, testing the form for flaws and finding not one—it was quite difficult for the curse to maintain his composure.

Seeking a different route for his thoughts to distract him, Krad commented idly, _'Why don't you go out? It's already nightfall—no one will see.'_

Satoshi looked up into the mirror—a quite _un_-Krad-like expression of confusion painted on what looked to be Krad's features. "Out…? Out where?" He turned his head to the window and the sky outside which was washing over violet. "You can't expect me to just take an evening stroll like _this_."

'_Of course not,'_ Krad assured him, _'Why walk, when you can fly?'_

A deep pause, and he turned back to the mirror. "…F—_fly_?" His eyes fell away as realization washed over him, and his heart quickened its beat, "I…you mean…"

A mental smile filled his mind, warming him from the inside out, _'Am I to take that to mean you'd like to try it?' _Satoshi barely managed a curt nod, quite eager to learn what exactly he could do in this body. _'All right all right—first I think, though, I'm going to have to teach you how to use Astral in my body.'_

"But—you already did that, when you taught me projection."

'_It's different in my body—remember? I'm the one you had to actually anchor on to; I've got far greater Astral use capacities than humans. Now—hold your arms out full in front of you, palms facing forward.' _Satoshi complied without question, _'Close your eyes and concentrate, feel the Astral like you did when I taught you—you shouldn't have to search for it, though, like humans. For me, the Astral is all around and ever-present. You will_…_hear it_…_I suppose is the term you could use.'_ He watched the mirror intently as the golden eyes slid shut, the boy concentrating his energies on synchronizing with Krad's powers that lay just beyond his reach.

"I…I _do_…" A smile slowly spread across his face, "Wh—what now?"

'_Now_…_you're going to have to_…_recite a numbing spell—in Latin.'_

"_Latin_!" The golden eyes shot open in alarm, "Wh—why! You know I _hate_ that language! I never did well in it!"

'_It's not my choice!'_ Krad couldn't help his defensive tone, _'Blame your ancestors! They're the ones who conjured up these damn things! And would you rather those wings just come ripping out of your back?'_

Satoshi flinched as harsh memories clamored for attention, eyes falling away, "N—no…I'll do it…"

'_Alright then—repeat after me: Mortal flesh, feel no more, not pain, not pleasure, bliss, nor sore_… _Carnis mortalis, non diutius senti, nec dolorem, nec voluptatem, nec beatitudinem, nec dolentem.'_

Satoshi repeated in perfect tandem, letting the syllables flow from his lips in that familiar golden tone, sprinkling the air with elegant words he didn't pretend to understand, simply parroting what was whispered in his mind.

'Wings from the void, heed my call—numb this body full to all… Alae ab inani, vocem curate—prorsus corpus torpere fac.'

Finishing the short incantation, Satoshi held his breath waiting for word on what to do next.

'_Good—now call them.'_

A pause, "…Call them?…Call them what?"

Krad frowned, _'Did you never pay attention when I went out?' _Satoshi blushed, and noted distantly how foreign a hue the red seemed on Krad's pale high cheeks, _'Call the wings.'_ Satoshi opened his mouth, obviously about to call out to the appendages, only to be interrupted again, _'Not with your voice! Just—with the Astral! It's—'_ The curse heaved a mental sigh, _'It's a lot easier to do_ _than to explain it, I suppose_… _All right: I simply test the threads and_…_pluck them_…_and they come_…_but you don't know about the threads enough to be able to do it_…_the two of us synchronizing would do it, but—'_

"Wait—_synchronizing_?" That definitely sounded like something he would not be comfortable doing with Krad. It sounded like it involved mutual consent. It sounded like it involved mind intrusion. It sounded…well, truthfully, just the name made it sound a lot like sex.

'_You wouldn't want to do it,'_ Krad assured him, as if reading his mind…which was probably what he'd done, _'It's like_…_both of our minds working in tandem, you feel what I feel, and I feel what you feel. You could see my thought processes regarding using Astral, but_…_it's not something I'd expect Satoshi-sama to want to try, actually—never mind, I'll keep thinking of how to best explain it.'_

Five more minutes passed in silence as Krad wracked his mind futilely to discern how best to get across what exactly it was to use his curse's astral abilities. To sense it was one thing; to use it, bend it, shape it, call it, was another thing entirely. He'd done it for three hundred years—by now it was child's play. But to explain it to another being, even one so close to him as Satoshi, was a different matter.

"…H—how long would…the synchronization last…? It wouldn't—it wouldn't be permanent…would it?"

Krad thought for a moment, _'I should think not_…_even host and curse as you and I are, there are still some barriers between us, and I wouldn't think a process like temporarily synchronizing would breach those barriers. I expect it shouldn't last beyond the time limit of that ring's power. A day, perhaps a bit more or less.'_

There was another long pause as Satoshi stood there in Krad's body, looking pathetically at his reflection, "…I'll do it, then…"

'_Satoshi-sama_…_' _Krad began warily, _'You—you do understand what this is, right? There would be_…_no barriers left_… _You'll have full access to my mind, and I yours—'_

"I know!" the boy snapped angrily, "I _know_…but it—it's just for a little while…and I want…" He was hesitant to say that he _wanted_ to try out Krad's body while he was in it, to fly, to use the Astral he saw his curse flinging about all the time, to experience fully what the blonde lived like…He really wanted to know, now that he was in the body, what made Krad _Krad_. And if his curse ever found that out…

'…_You're giving me more trust when I haven't earned it, Satoshi-sama_…_'_

"Stop talking like that!" he growled, "I'll give my trust to whomever I want! And if I…if I want to trust that you…won't do anything I don't want you to…then let me—if you want to do something about it, then don't prove me an idiot for doing this with you…Maybe that'll clear your conscience."

…_please don't hurt me_.

* * *

_Mother_…_I have no mother_… 

_Niwa has a mother. Niwa has many things I don't have. Niwa has a family. Niwa has a curse who cares. Niwa has friends, Niwa has people who love him._

_Niwa has been rejected before. Niwa has rejected before. Harada Risa. Harada Riku. Hiwatari—Hikari Satoshi. Niwa Daisuke. Dark._

_Krad_…

Krad…?

"…It still feels like before…" Krad's voice was tinged with Satoshi's slight whine, wondering what was wrong. "I don't feel different…Krad?" He could feel the familiar pressure in a corner of his mind, reminding him that the blonde was still there with him, but he couldn't figure out why he wasn't answering, "_Krad_? Hey—it feels the same."

A shudder he couldn't fight wracked his body as his curse's mental struggles reverberated in his own form, "Wha—what's going on!" The voice took on an unfamiliar tone, one Krad had never used before: panic.

'_Y—your thoughts Satoshi-sama! Stop them—put up something; a barrier! Please—a barrier!'_

Golden eyes darted around uncertainly, "What're you talking about! What kind of barrier are you—"

_Krad is always there with me; Krad never leaves me alone, Krad never leaves me, Krad never leaves. Krad won't die unless I die, but then he'll come back. He always comes back. Krad is a curse, but at least he is my curse._

_Niwa has a curse too. Niwa has many things I don't have, but we both have our curses. Niwa has Dark, I have Krad._

_Does Niwa love his Dark, I wonder? His Dark is always with him, he might love him. I do not know. Can a host love his curse? I do not know. Can a curse love his host? I do not know. I used to love Niwa. Now_…_I do not know._

_Dark is a curse, Niwa is a host. Krad is a curse, I am a host. Can a host love his curse? I do not kn—_

'_SATOSHI-SAMA! STOP YOUR THOUGHTS! FOCUS ON SOMETHING! I can't—AAH!'_ Another spasm echoed along astral threads from curse to host, sending Satoshi slipping to his knees, cradling his head in his hands. Thoughts, thoughts, what _thoughts_!

_Confusion pain pleasure elation anticipation anxiety excitement fear trepidation courage _

_Thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts thoughts tho—_

_KRAD_

_KRAD_

_KRAD_

_KRAD_

Krad…

…

"…Krad…?" the boy hazarded, cracking open an eye and daring a scan of the room, hoping that whatever had just happened was over, and he might see a mirror image of the body he was currently using standing over his form, curled up into a fetal position as he was at the moment.

There was no image, but a voice _did_ answer in his mind, _'It—it's fine now, Satoshi-sama_… _You bought me time to put up a rudimentary shield_…_'_

"Wh—what was that all about?" He turned his confused gaze to the floor, still sensing the fear rolling off of the mental voice as it had pounded him with entreaties to stop that which he hadn't even realized he was doing. "I don't…I don't even know what I _did_…"

But before Krad could even begin to tell him what had just transpired, he _knew_. Knowledge and understanding simply _popped_ into his mind: The synchronization had been perfectly successful, it was simply that Krad's personal shields kept his thoughts from unnecessarily straying into Satoshi's own mind when they weren't needed—not actually a barrier, but more of a funnel, directing thoughts where to go and when. Satoshi, though, didn't know he'd even need to do something like that so when the two had fused (or whatever one wanted to call their state now), all his normal thoughts flushed into Krad like a tsunami, overcoming him and giving him little chance to react until he could instruct his host to find something to anchor onto. The pain, the fear, of being lost amidst a sea of thoughts he couldn't differentiate, all pounding him, begging for attention, flooding his senses with _Satoshi_ and drowning out _Krad_ altogether…

But Satoshi could also sense a kind of beaming pride that felt warm when it washed over his mindscape, like a ray of sunshine into a darkened room he wanted to curl up in, pride that his focus had been Krad himself—

Well, it was just—that was the object he'd been confronted with right then, that was all. It wasn't surprising that the very same person screaming inside his mind would have been the one thing he thought of and anchored onto at that moment, was it? That was the only reason he'd held onto a single thought of Krad to stabilize his thoughts, "So…don't misunderstand me, alright?" he finished aloud, conscious that his every feeling and thought had been sensed by the curse inside of him, and he pushed himself into a standing position.

Now, about those wings…

The numbing spell was still holding fast, and Satoshi couldn't even feel the fabric of his shirt rubbing against his back, tight as the material was.

No, something told him, and he could barely discern it was Krad: _'No—hold off on summoning the wings; you need new clothing, something that won't restrict you so when flying.'_

Frowning, Satoshi stared into the mirror, "Well then, let's do it already! I'm getting bored just standing around in this body with nothing to do!" Open up a pocket dimension, something told him: that's what he had to do. Though…how to do that? Instantly the knowledge was his, as if it was a task he'd learned long before and had been on the tip of his tongue—he even had to fight back an involuntary, "Oh, I remember now!" so natural had the task seemed.

Feel the strings around him, flowing from living thing to living thing, from living to inanimate, from inanimate to inanimate—feel them all, pluck them, watch them waver like ripples in a pond, and watch reality _shift_… Pull apart a pair, reach inside and test the Astral: it feels good today, it wants to be used, it wishes to serve its user today. Visualize what I want, picture Krad as he was before, see him standing there, in those garments, looking like some European nobleman from centuries past.

Feel the earthly threads dissolve, feel the astral threads molding to this body, Satoshi's body, Krad's body, _our body_; the undershirt winds around the arms like a snake, constricting the chest but—not so tight, and the breeches ballooning out over his thighs! Vest snapping over, charcoal gray, like molten lead—no, like mercury, liquid silver, silky and smooth and so pleasurable against his skin when one rubs his cheek over it. And falling like snow upon his shoulders, draping down to cover his form, the knee-length overcoat, eyes trailing down to gloss over shiny jet-black boots that looked as if they'd been polished tirelessly.

'_Not bad, if I do say so myself—I think you're getting the hang of this, Satoshi-sama!'_

"What about the wings? Can we do them now?" The boy's voice was having a harder and harder time disguising the excitement that was laced in it like poison, betraying Satoshi's anticipation and eagerness to get on with the night.

'_Why ask me? You know now_…_'_

"Ah—yeah!" He put off admiring himself in the mirror and let his arms drop to his sides as his eyes closed in concentration, brows furrowing.

_Call them_…_call them_… Not with the mouth, but with the mind, the heart, the _will_—that was what drove a bloodline curse, more than anything: the will. By his will Krad could do virtually anything if he so desired it. Could take over his host's body, could relinquish his body to his host, could seal himself away, could…could kill his own host, could drive them to madness, could drive them to self-hate, could make them wish they'd never been born and plant in their mind a deep wish to wipe themselves from existen—

'_Satoshi-sama?'_ a worried voice echoed in his mind, _'_…_The wings, aren't you going to summon them?'_

"Ah—y-yes…I'm doing it…Sorry…" Satoshi straightened the body back up and refocused, mentally berating himself for letting himself be distracted by the maze which was Krad's mind…for letting himself bore further into that mind than he'd have liked to have gone…

Right, the wings. Yes. He refocused his thoughts _again_ and spoke a single word into the void of Astral that surrounded him on all sides: _Come_.

Instantly the numbing spell went to work as the two huge appendages burst from his shoulder blades, bent in half, and quickly unfurled to their full expanse, larger than any bird Satoshi knew of as the tips very nearly stretched the expanse off the room. The numbing spell, no longer needed, wore off, and just as the boy was about to query how he was actually supposed to _use_ the things—he knew.

"I…think I kind of like this synchronization thing…I don't have to ask you anything." He pushed them further out until the tips brushed the walls on either side, stretching them as best he could to get out any kinks, then folded them close to his body as he flung open the bay windows and stepped onto the balcony, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.

'_Perfect night for a flight, wouldn't you say?'_

"I would have to agree with you there…" He unfurled the wings again like twin snow-white umbrellas, and propped one foot up on the wire railing, admiring the sparkling sea of lights which was the mid-evening Azumano district. The night owls were still out, but most respectable institutions had already closed.

'_Now, Satoshi-sama, you do understand how to use the wings, right? You don't think_ _you need to, I don't know, practice a bit? Maybe from the roof?'_ He could see from their perch that the nearest building was _too_ close for him to be comfortable with his newly fledged host flying around. He'd have more room to maneuver if they started higher up—

"It's fine, it's fine! _You_ know how to use them, so now _I_ know too! That was the whole purpose of this synchronization, wasn't it?"

'_Well, yes, but_…_knowing how to fly and actually flying are two different things, Satoshi-sama. It's just as if you read how to do something in a book; when you must actually do it on your own, it's quite diff—'_

"I said I'd be fine! Stop worrying! Now…" The wings spread open further in anticipation, and Satoshi shifted his weight forward onto the foot perched on the railing, giving a little jump as he maneuvered his balance forward, then—he pushed off!

And then he began falling. Very fast.

'_Sa—SATOSHI-SAMA! FLAP! THE WINGS! USE THEM! FLAP THEM, IDIOT!'_

"I—I _AM_! I—DAMMIT, AND DON'T CALL ME AN IDIOT! FLY! Fl—_fly_!" He didn't need _two_ voices telling him that falling five stories wasn't a good idea—he knew he had to do something. Quickly, though, he recovered enough to command the wings, catching his falling form like a parachute and slowly carrying him back up above the rooftops as he pummeled the air furiously. He supposed he'd just been expecting to suddenly find himself lighter than air, floating along with the wings as simple guides.

'_Those are astral wings, but they are wings! You're not a bird in that body, Satoshi-sama, you have to flap them, you know.'_

"Right right…I understand already," he muttered dejectedly as he felt _another_ lecture coming on, cresting the fading air currents falling off of the skyscrapers in the downtown area. He trolled along lazily on the outstretched wings as he pondered what to do next.

The view from a few hundred feet _above_ the city was quite different from his usual head on view, and with his senses completely thrown off by the nightscape, Satoshi relied heavily on Krad's innate sense of direction around the town to guide him.

They turned west towards the harbor after a moment's indecision, and the boy had a bit of trouble getting the hang of gliding, but eventually managed to get the wings to obey, and soon he was soaring low and fast just a few inches over the glittering black surface of the bay. Taking a deep breath of the fresh sea air, he dropped one gloved hand and dragged a few fingers along the surface in glee. So caught up was he in the moment that he barely missed crashing into a buoy, almost tumbling ungracefully into the cold water, and earning a chiding from his curse.

"Oh! I want to try those blast things you use on Dark!" He caught himself before he came off too excited and readjusted his tone, "That is—I want to try my hand at them—they seem…interesting. Yes."

Krad suppressed a mental laugh—his host always, above anything else, furiously guarded his emotions, loath to let even the being he was physically closest to, his curse, see him in what he thought a weak state, indulging in his normal fourteen-year-old emotions. Whereas most any other child would be _ecstatic_ at the process of being able to fire beams of energy from their palms, Satoshi tried to treat the feat like an everyday occurrence he was deigning to experiment.

'_Well then, might I suggest some target practice?'_

The golden eyes scanned the area below where Krad's body was currently hovering; they'd turned back inland away from the ocean and were now over the front courtyard of the Central Art Museum. In the back corner of the gardens, adorning a large fountain, was the pride and joy of the previous curator: a recreation of the famous "Thinker", commemorating an exhibit on the great minds of the twentieth century which had run a few years back.

An all-too-familiar devilish grin snuck onto Krad's features as mischievous thoughts congregated in Satoshi's mind. "I've never vandalized anything before, you know…not once in over fourteen years…"

'_Really? You should have met Hikari Ashiya then_… _A more urchin-like host than he I think I have never had. Perpetual trouble-maker, and a damn fine fighter to boot_… _But you wouldn't believe the lectures I had to sit through with that boy_…_'_

"Sounds like it's time to break my record then…"

Krad cracked a mental smile, _'You're certainly feeling mischievous tonight, Satoshi-sama.'_ He could sense his host's heartbeat speed up nervously as he struggled for a retort.

"No! I just—it's this body of yours! You're like some wind-up toy who always has to be doing something, never satisfied with sitting around. How can you stand all this—_energy_? It's annoying…" It was a pitiful excuse, they both knew, though thankfully neither pushed the matter any further, content with the knowledge that Satoshi was having fun whether he liked it or not.

As before, the moment Satoshi began concentrating on _how_ to form the pulsing spheres of energy, he _knew_, thanks to the synchronization, and smiled broadly. "So, it's not much different from summoning the wings… I just gather it in my hands this time, right?"

A mental nod, _'I did something similar when I taught you projection a while back: except then, instead of a ball, I formed a rope and fed it to you.'_

"Ah, got it—here goes…" The white wings continued to flail against the air to support Krad's body's weight as he struggled to hover, but Satoshi let them go without monitoring them. _He_ was concentrating at the moment.

Quickly thrusting his hands forward, palms facing in front, he began to knead the air before him like bread dough, working thin fingers into the invisible Astral to wind it around his hands until it congregated in a large enough quantity and—"There!"

The air between his palms burst into a ball of light as if a lightbulb had been dangled between them, shining more brightly than a raging inferno, and just as dangerous.

Then, a pause, "Umm…how do I throw it…?"

'_Just like a normal ball! Toss it wherever! Weren't you trying to hit the statue?'_

"Alright then…" He raised both arms over his head, being sure to hold tightly to the Astral, "Aah—_hah_!"

* * *

It had been a long night for Niwa Daisuke. The Central Art Museum had closed early, as it was a weekend, and his mother had seen it as a wonderful opportunity to get an early start on his pre-mission reconnaissance, reminding him cheerily not to forget to pick up milk on the way home. He'd sighed and asked for the fifth time that day why he had to go and check out this museum _again_ when he and Dark had already successfully raided it numerous times before without problems. 

_"They've gotten a new security system, remember?"_ She had said, _"You can never be too careful! Won't you at least go give it a once-over, for me? It'll make your poor mother feel so much better knowing her boys aren't going into a job unprepared!"_

He'd, of course, eventually given in to the begging, never able to turn down his mother in any request she made, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Dark had grumbled the whole way here, and wasn't showing any signs of stopping soon, feeling the need to make a note every time he came across something that wouldn't work against him in this fancy new system.

'_And a laser trip wire at the top of the main stairwell? Please! Like the great phantom thief Dark-sama would even think of coming in through the main lobby when there's an open window in the back by the basement!'_

"Right right, I think you've said enough for one night, Dark." Daisuke crawled back into the garden area on his stomach through the same window his curse had just been speaking of, keeping his voice in low tones, "And that window wasn't locked because it had been painted shut! It took me fifteen minutes to get it open—by then, then police probably would have noticed you back there, don't you think? Mom was right in suggesting we do surveillance even though we've hit this museum before."

'_Hey, who's the three-hundred-year-old thief here? I know my stuff! That Saehara's a few centuries too early to be a match for me.'_

The Niwa boy shrugged as he slid the window shut behind him, standing and dusting off his hands, "You can't blame him for trying—and _don't_ forget, you still have Krad to deal with! He _does_ know your tricks, even if Saehara's dad doesn't. He almost had you last time, remember? If With hadn't been there to hold him off for those few seconds—"

_'A lucky shot, that's all it was!'_

Daisuke rolled his eyes and packed the small crowbar he'd used to get inside into his bag, slinging it back over his shoulders. "Well, shall we head home? I still have to pick up some milk for Mom—should be a store open late on the corner before we get up over the hill." With an affirmative agreement from his curse, Daisuke slipped into the shadows, headed for the rear garden wall of the Central Art Museum Courtyard.

Then all hell broke loose.

Louder than a canon fired right in his ear, the Niwa boy's world exploded in a furious blast, raining down rubble and marble-powder, and littering the ground around him with remains. Barely repressing a surprised yelp with the knowledge that he didn't want to be caught around here, Daisuke tried his very best to flatten himself against the wall, heart racing a mile a minute as he scanned his surroundings. "Wh—what was _that_!"

He moved his gaze from side to side, eastern wall to western wall, taking in countless fragments of what had apparently been destroyed in the blast: a large statue that had been situated atop the central fountain in the courtyard. "But…how did that…"

Further questioning was put on hold, though, as a new sound assaulted his ears, and he pressed back against the wall again: _laughter_. And it sounded vaguely familiar too… Daring to poke his head out, he scanned the skies hesitantly, seeking out the source of the noise.

"Is…that…"

'…_KRAD?'_

Two beings stared up through one pair of eyes at the surreal sight that greeted them: Dark's nemesis of three hundred years, hovering unsteadily in the sky over the gardens, leaning right and left every now and then on uncertain wings, and _laughing_! The strangest thing was not that he was laughing, but…the _emotions_ conveyed in the sound.

Krad had laughed before, to be sure, on numerous occasions, usually when he was confident he had the upperhand in a fight between himself and Dark, but…it was different now. _This_ laughter was…almost sincere. As if he genuinely found the situation enjoyable, funny.

When the blonde head turned away and began talking to himself in a tone Daisuke couldn't catch, the Niwa boy took the chance to slip out and over the low wall to get on home and think about what exactly was going on.

'_What's gotten into that maniac tonight?'_

Daisuke shook his head uncertainly, "You don't have any idea? He's never done this?"

'_What, vandalizing museum property? That's my line of work! That guy's always so serious_… _Kind of freaks me out, hearing him like that_…_'_

"I guess…I could ask Hiwatari-kun about it tomorrow at school…"

'_If you really wanna confront that kid again be my guest_… _But just think of it like this: You two haven't had the best track record so far when you try and talk to him, you know.'_

Frowning, Daisuke countered, "Well—that doesn't mean I can't still try. I'm his friend, I care about him! And…I'm curious, of course. To see if he even knew about Krad doing that."

Where his host couldn't see, Dark rolled his eyes and muttered softly, _'You're too nice to him_…_'_

* * *

Winging his way back to his apartment after having blown the museum statue into countless tiny fragments, Satoshi had to consciously fight doing loop-de-loops in the air, still stubbornly intent on keeping his emotions under control. This, however, didn't stop him from babbling aimlessly and without signs of stopping. 

"How do you fight all this energy! It all feels like it's clamoring to get out now! Ah—I could blow stuff up all day! That was great! I feel like I just did something _really_ bad that I shouldn't have—"

'_You did do something really bad that you shouldn't have, Satoshi-sama.'_

He waved off the reminder, "As if they can pin it on me anyway—you've got Saehara scared stiff, you know. Between my warning him and you nearly biting his head off when you met last time, I don't think a shattered statue that no one cared about is going to make much difference." Slowing his descent and beating the air more furiously as he alighted on the balcony, he continued, "I guess I can understand now why you feel so much pressure to go out and chase Dark around…so much…_power_…"

Krad cracked a mental smile, _'If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were contemplating keeping my body_…_'_

Immediately Satoshi recovered his senses and folded the wings close for comfort as he reached out to open the bay windows again, blushing brightly, "I—no! No! It was just—just a comment! I said I understood why, that's all. Doesn't mean I'm about to be any happier about letting you try and kill Niwa every time a notice comes out."

'So you'll gladly let me back when this ring's effects wear off?' 

"Of—of course! It's your body, not mine. Just because _you_ don't have a problem taking my body and not giving it back when I want it, doesn't mean I have to sink to your level, you know."

The blonde cringed a bit inwardly at the harsh memories brought back of how often that was _exactly_ what he'd done to his host: taken over the boy's body without any regard whatsoever for his own wishes.

Satoshi continued onward into the room in silence while his curse drowned in self-pity for a while, relaxing after the evening's adventures. He rotated his shoulders a bit to ease the tension and noted idly that flying was quite tiring—how on earth had Krad kept this up for three centuries?

"Ne, Krad." He paused in the darkness at the foot of the bed, wings drooping pathetically, and a foreign feeling of guilt for his curse washed over him, starting a pounding headache in his head which he did _not_ need. After a moment passed with no response, he tried again, "_Krad_—I'm talking to you!"

'_Ah—gomen, Satoshi-sama_…_'_

He sighed, "Tell me how to get rid of these wings, would you? Or else I'm just gonna go to sleep in this body…"

Krad started, perking up immediately at the idea of Satoshi sleeping in the same bed as his body, but carefully kept the image a guarded secret from his host, _'We're still synchronized, Satoshi-sama. Remember?'_

Stifling a loud yawn, Satoshi muttered, "Oh yeah…still not used to knowing things I shouldn't know, I guess." He closed his eyes and concentrated for the umpteenth time that night, searching Krad's memory banks for a clue as to how to banish the appendages he'd worked so hard to call forth, not too surprised to find the key to their disappearing as simple as the key to calling them: _Go_.

"Well, what now?" he called into the empty room, slumping back onto the mattress in a very un-Krad-like pose, arms spread-eagle.

'_Are you ready to return to your own body already?'_

The blonde head lifted with considerable effort up off the bed, "I guess so…I can't exactly sleep like this—I've got school in the morning." His head dropped back slowly, then shot up again a moment later, "Wh—what about the synchronization? Will it wear off when we transform back? Or…what?"

Phasing into view, Krad shrugged his shoulders, _'I assume so—there'd be nothing to anchor on to anymore with the ring's power used up. That's part of where the real Rutile draws its power: a symbiotic synchronization. It uses a jumpstart of power to initiate the technique, establishes a synch between curse and host in the case of the Niwas and Hikaris, and then uses that synch to draw out more power.' _He could sense Satoshi wavering uncertainly, a bit unsettled by the explanation,_ 'But_…_this is merely a Niwa-made mirror to Rutile. Not the real thing. By morning it will be as if this entire experience never happened. You will be Hikari Satoshi-sama, just as you have always been, no more a part of me than you were before.' _

The boy relaxed slightly and pushed himself off the bed with no small effort, hobbling over to the closet to change into something to sleep in. For the second time that evening, Krad had to turn away or risk embarrassing himself as he watched his own curious golden eyes travel over his body, innocent as they may have been.

'_So_…_was Niwa Kosuke's gift useful?' _Satoshi pulled a shirt over the blonde head, having a bit of trouble getting the pony-tail through the head-hole, and turned to stare at his curse, _'Did you_…_enjoy yourself tonight?'_

Hopping around on one foot as he struggled into a pair of pajama bottoms, Satoshi was only half-paying attention, "Of course I did—you were there, weren't you? I got to do things I wouldn't have _dreamed_ of doing in my own body."

Finally managing to wrangle the bottoms onto the lithe body of his curse, he padded silently back over to the mattress and pulled back the covers before sliding in and resting his head on one of the pillows, intent on releasing his hold on the form as soon as he was comfortable, "But…I think I'll miss this synchronization… It wasn't as bad as you made it sound…"

Krad cocked a thin eyebrow at his host, _'Really now? You like having all your secrets exposed, open to me whenever I feel like looking at them? You like being this vulnerable before me, being this close to me? Or contrarily, you like being able to hold that same power over me? Is that what you're thinking? Because that's exactly what synchronization is: a bond of trust, trust that one won't hurt the other, or risk being hurt themselves.'_

Satoshi lifted his head off the pillow and narrowed his eyes in angry confusion at his curse's astral form standing a few feet away, "What's _your_ problem? All I said was I liked being able to do things without having to ask someone all the time—that I liked just _knowing_ how. Something _wrong_ with that?"

Sighing low, Krad shook his head, _'No_…_it wasn't that_… _Simply, I still feel bad about_…_about you saying you trusted me, and doing all this with me when I hadn't given you reason to—'_

The boy rolled back over in bed, childish mannerisms taking over the elder man's body he was still in, "Didn't I tell you to shut up about that already?" A pause, and he continued more seriously in a softer tone, "Of course I didn't like being vulnerable like that…you know me better than anyone else, _know_ I hate that feeling… I just…I didn't care. At that point I didn't care if you knew any secrets I had, or if you found something I didn't want you to see…

"I really did have fun, you know…I _did_…" Golden eyes slid shut for the final time that night, sending the Hikari child stationed behind them into the depths of slumber until the morning. "…Thank you…"

Krad's eyes softened as he watched the form waver and blur before his eyes, shrinking ever so slowly back to his normal height, hair washing over a pale blue, arms thinning and losing muscle mass, legs mirroring them, until the body settled in the bed was once again Hikari Satoshi through and through.

He cracked a sad smile, _'You're quite welcome, Satoshi-sama_…_'_ and leaned forward to grace the boy's forehead with a kiss he could not feel before he, too, retired for the night.

* * *

_Auhor's Notes_: Enjoy the bit of fluff that was this chapter while yoiu can...I must say it's mostly downhill from here. Next week: the aftermath of Satoshi's Night Out as Daisuke confronts him at school. 


	13. Compensatory Proceedings

_Galatea_

_Thirteenth Movement: Compensatory Proceedings_

"Behind every argument is someone's ignorance."

_Louis D. Brandeis_

* * *

Satoshi awoke the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had in ages, despite the fact that he hadn't gotten as much sleep as usual the night before thanks to his little excursion in Krad's body. He idly suspected that some energy had been left over in his own body, leaving him feeling relaxed and more alive than ever when he should have been dog tired.

He hopped on the trolley just as it was leaving the station, and sat back and enjoyed the ride instead of going over the day's schedule in his head—quite unusual for the Hikari boy. Was it just him, or did it seem that some of Krad's own habits were beginning to seep over into his personality? He felt more relaxed, self-assured, not worried about the day's happenings, and confident that he could handle any problems that dared to rear their ugly heads.

Unbeknownst to him, his curse was sitting back and watching this whole thought process in silent glee, glad that for once he could do something his host actually _thanked_ him for, even if it _was_ grudgingly given thanks. And to have the boy _still_ thinking about the night before was enough to send Krad shooting over the moon in elation—not that his Satoshi-sama needed to know he was feeling this way. If he caught wind of Krad's own happiness at realizing Satoshi was still thinking about Kosuke's ring, the boy was sure to clamp down on those thoughts right away and swear to never think them again.

Instead, they carried on in silence: Satoshi thinking to himself in ignorant bliss, Krad eavesdropping on those thoughts.

This pleasant atmosphere of early-morning calm, though, was soon to be shattered, as Niwa Daisuke had something he absolutely _had_ to talk about, and wasn't about to be diverted.

Satoshi had only just entered the room, a full ten minutes or so before the first bell was to ring, when he was confronted winding his way through the rows of desks. "Hiwatari-kun?" came Daisuke's tentative voice from one row over, and Satoshi idly turned his head, being sure not to hit other desks as he set his messenger bag down on top of it.

"Something you need, Niwa?" His tone, Daisuke was glad to see, was back to normal—there was no bitter tinge, or cold air running through it, as had been lately. It seemed Satoshi was just Satoshi right now, not worrying about Krad or Dark or anything to do with Daisuke or his family.

The redhead was so caught up in the boy's tone, though, he almost slipped back into his normal banter, forgetting momentarily why he'd approached his friend. He caught himself, though, before his face relaxed into that friendly smile familiar to him, and hardened his features. Dropping his voice slightly, he urged, "I…I need to ask you something…about—about…Krad."

Satoshi now straightened up, face not as relaxed as before. He sized the redhead up running calculating eyes up and down the lanky form, as if by doing so he could discern his motives. "…What about him?"

Red eyes darting left and right to be sure there were no eavesdroppers or idle listeners near them, he pushed nearer, "I…I saw him…last night." He paused. "And—Dark and I agree, he wasn't normal."

Breath almost catching in his throat, scene after scene from the night before flashed like an old film reel inside the Hikari boy's mind, replaying at hyperspeed, "Where…how would you know? What're you talking about?"

Daisuke sighed, somewhat relieved Satoshi at least wasn't biting his head off in refute, "We…we went to the Central Art Museum, to check out the new security system they have." As an afterthought, he added, "Mom made me go."

"And? What does that have to do with Krad?"

"We were leaving, sneaking out a window in the back near the courtyard, and—and a statue just _blew up_! Right in front of us! Didn't fall—it _exploded_. And I looked all around to find out what happened, and…and up in the sky…I saw him…" He slowed, gauging Satoshi's reaction, "…He was laughing…"

At first, Daisuke thought the expression plastered on his rival's face was from shock at hearing the news, and felt certain that the excursion hadn't been permitted by Satoshi—but it was, in fact, from shock that he'd been seen. And worse, seen by _Niwa_. As if he needed to give that boy _another_ reason to start a fight.

"…Hiwatari-kun?" the redhead pressed, worry growing in his eyes, "Do you…know what was going on?" When Satoshi didn't answer, he continued with a smile, "Neither Dark nor I knew what to make of it—seeing Krad vandalizing museum property isn't exactly something we'd expect to see, you know? But I just wanted to make sure you knew what he was doing."

The blue head snapped up to attention, gaze fixed intently on Niwa Daisuke, "…What?"

Daisuke blinked, "I just said I wanted to tell you about it, to make sure you knew what he was up to, since I guess you couldn't stop him."

Inside his gut, Satoshi felt something lurch, and realized that for some reason, he was very _very_ angry at the Niwa boy right now. As if it was _his_ place to tell him what was and was not proper for his own curse to be doing! _He_ was the one Satoshi chased after, the host of the one Krad chased after. And he was here, in effect "tattling" on the blonde, because he assumed that _of course_ the Hikari boy would have _never_ let his curse out on his own. _Of course_ Krad had to have been up to something—something bad, no doubt, because Krad was Krad.

He wasn't a thief with a supposed heart of gold, like the Niwas' Dark. He was the golden demon few knew and all feared—he was the "bad" curse.

It felt like a slap on the wrists—that since Satoshi seemed to be having trouble keeping tabs on his own curse, Daisuke felt it was his duty to do it. "To make sure you knew about it," was what he'd said, with that stupid smile of his, and laced in it was the urging, "You should do something about this."

_No one_ told Hiwatari Satoshi what to do—least of all a Niwa.

Daisuke, confident he'd said all he could, and that Satoshi had just not known about Krad's late night wanderings the previous evening, turned away and headed up towards his seat in the front of the room, when a hand reached forward and grabbed his shirt from behind. "…Hiwatari-kun?"

There was a pause, and he shivered as he felt the cold Hikari ice forming once more in the boy's blue eyes. "…It was me," was the solemn statement.

Confusion washed over the redhead, "…What?"

"It wasn't Krad you saw last night. It was me." He released Daisuke's shirt and pulled his hand back, turning his eyes to his bag on his desk and almost smirking now, "Me, in Krad's body—I was the one who blew up that statue at the museum."

"Y—you…but…but _how_!" He struggled here to keep his voice low, hissing, "How could that have been _you_! In—in _Krad's_ body!"

"That may be a question you'd like to ask your father." Daisuke obviously didn't get the connection, "I used a ring that had the power to let my mind stay in control even when I transformed—it let me use Krad's body, for one night. So I did. Last night, the one you saw was _me_. That explain things a bit better? Or should I still check into it and make sure Krad wasn't doing anything bad?"

"Wh—_why_?" was Daisuke's only question when he finally found his voice again, "Why would you want to…be in _his_ body!"

Satoshi narrowed his eyes, at this point _quite_ angry with the Niwa boy, "Because I felt like it—accessing those powers, the rush of being immortal, if only for a moment, the—the _energy_ flooding my senses, and…and he wanted it too…" He relaxed his harsh berating. "It was…fun. I liked it…and I liked that he trusted me with his own body."

It took all Daisuke's strength in controlling his anger not to whip out his fist and slam Satoshi to the ground. Again. "I can't believe it…" he hissed softly, anger bubbling just below the surface.

"I don't care if you believe me or not—it's none of your business anyway, Niwa."

More and more students were beginning to file in, only a minute or so left before class would officially start, and they would have to break up, with Daisuke returning to his seat. And he wasn't about to leave this unfinished for the few hours until he could speak to the boy again at lunch.

"It is so my business! When one of my best friends starts—"

"Since when have I been one of your 'best friends'? _Please_ don't think about leveling _me_ with Saehara."

"—When one of my best friends starts letting his _curse_ get under his skin!"

Not letting Niwa get to him, the Hikari boy idly returned, "You say curse as if it's a bad thing."

"You don't think so?" Daisuke laughed harshly, incredulity staining his voice.

Turning his eyes away, he muttered, "…A curse is something you don't deserve…" Pausing, he gathered himself and continued, "And would you place your precious _Dark_ in the same category as Krad? They're both simple parasites, you know."

"Dark isn't a parasite," he growled, eyes flashing.

"He is," Satoshi pressed, "They both are—they cannot live without us, without their host bodies, and they cannot function on their own. They draw their own life energy from ours, inadvertently shortening our time to live, and deprive us of the chance to live our own lives, to grow up, fall in love normally. They offer little—if anything—in return, because that's simply how they were created: to feed on us, to need us, to cherish us, to give nothing back. And so we are bound to hate them for it."

"…I don't hate Dark though." A girl brushed past them, and people were hurrying to their seats now.

"I know that…but that doesn't discount the fact that he _is_ a parasite. One who needs to be disposed of."

"Oh? And what about _Krad_? You want him gone too, right?"

Pause.

"…Right?"

Daisuke had meant it to be a rhetorical question. There should have been _no_ hesitation; it was one he'd asked before. Satoshi refused to meet his eyes, even when he dipped his head down to gauge the reaction. "…Hiwatari-kun?"

"Class is about to start, Niwa. You should go to your seat." The girl who sat beside Satoshi took her seat, and Daisuke frowned at not being able to use Dark's and Krad's names so freely in the moment he had left to speak, edging towards the front of the room.

"We're not done talking, you know." The remainder of their little chat apparently would have to wait until the cleaning period.

"I know…" the Hikari boy sighed loudly, "It seems you never know when to shut up."

* * *

The morning passed with Satoshi in a much darker, sulkier mood now than when he'd arrived—it seemed whatever emotions had seeped into him from using the ring before had dissipated by now, and all he was left with were Niwa's words and emotions filling his head.

Why couldn't he just leave Satoshi _alone_? He'd already embarrassed himself enough, what with the confession, and then breaking down at the funeral, and being caught cavorting in Krad's body the night before—Niwa had to think he was the most capricious human on the face of the planet.

'_You shouldn't pay so much attention to that boy; that's what he wants, anyway.'_

Satoshi started, eyes darting inadvertently over to the redhead, who was listening attentively to the history professor's lecture. _'And what's that supposed to mean_…_?'_

'_Simply what I said: He doesn't want you, but he doesn't want anyone else to have you either. Base human emotions, that one wants most what one cannot have.'_

The boy had to suppress a harsh bark of laughter, _'Since when did you become so knowledgeable on the human psyche?'_

'_Satoshi-sama, I'm a part of your psyche; one would hope I'd be somewhat knowledgeable on it. Lest I wander where I'm not supposed to.' _He paused, and couldn't resist asking, _'And what was with that hesitation earlier? When that boy asked if you wanted me gone?'_

Red erupted over his features, spilling over his cheeks and out to his ears, tingeing them. "Th—that's—!" He slapped two hands over his mouth, earning a glare from his teacher, and an equally harsh one from Daisuke, who probably had a good idea what the outburst had been for. _'That was_…_it was just because I was thinking.'_

'…_About?'_

'…_About_…_about when I asked you to stay with me, so that my astral threads would heal.' _A deep silence filled his mind, _'I didn't want to explain it, but then it would have been a lie if I'd told Niwa I wanted you gone too.' _He turned his focus back to the teacher and jotted down a few notes for show, _'So don't misunderstand, alright?'_

Indeed, Krad _had_ misunderstood—and was naturally a bit deflated at the realization that this condition had been his host's incentive to withhold telling Niwa he wanted Krad out of his head. But then, what had he been expecting?

For some great confession to come spilling out over the boy's mental waves? To have him so moved by Krad's offer to let him use his body that he was enticed to accept his curse's feelings and return them? Had he _really_ expected that, or was it simply wishful thinking? Of _course_ that had been Satoshi's reasoning—ever the shrewd calculator, the boy rarely missed a detail, and would have counted that as a reason Krad should stay: so that he could regain the years deprived him by Dark's attack that one night more than a month beforehand.

Well great. Now he was depressed.

Satoshi rubbed his temples, feeling a gentle pulsing start inside his skull like a bass drum, _'What's your problem now? I can still feel you_… _Giving me a damn headache_…_'_

Directly in front of his desk, image standing halfway inside the student right ahead of Satoshi, a tall golden form phased into view like a television picture. _'I'll try and suppress it, Satoshi-sama.'_

"A—aah!" For the second time in five minutes, Satoshi clapped two hands over his own mouth, struggling not to fall over as he quickly pushed his chair backwards, scrambling back in it.

"Hiwatari-kun," the teacher spoke firmly drawing a few gazes to stare at him, "Is something the matter?" He shook his head sheepishly, "Then _please_ stay quiet during lecture."

Nodding, he turned his gaze down, and so he completely missed the look of utter shock that crossed Niwa Daisuke's face, before he jerked his head back around forward, sweating profusely.

'_You i—idiot! What are you doing!' _Satoshi growled mentally, running trembling hands through his pale blue locks, still massaging his temples, _'Nearly gave me a heart attack!'_

Face breaking into a knowing smile, Krad apologized lightly, _'Gomen, gomen, Satoshi-sama. But it's so boring sitting in there sometimes.'_

'_You've put up with it well enough up until now. What's so special about today?' _Krad shrugged. _'And you nearly made Niwa keel over, too.'_

'_Then my job would have been done, wouldn't it?'_ Golden eyes turned to regard the redhead a few desks away, who was still trying his very best to concentrate on his schoolwork, and failing miserably under Krad's piercing stare.

A split second later, though, another form phased into view, astral as Krad's. _'Well well, someone's getting a bit tense, I see.'_

'_I told you you'd scared him.'_

Krad shook his golden mane and clucked his tongue. _'So childish—it's not as if I could have hurt him anyway.'_

'_It's just comforting to have him there, I guess_…_'_ Satoshi remarked idly, staring at the phantom thief who was now fiercely guarding his own host from Krad's prying eyes. _'You should go say hi—it'll be the first time you two have spoken in a while without trying to kill each other.'_

'_No_…' he remarked almost wistfully, _'We can't hear each other_…_'_

'_You can't?' _This made Satoshi perk up, and he set his pencil down, blue eyes following Krad's form as he wandered up and down the aisles, appraising the students and flaunting the fact that Dark couldn't stop him.

'_No_…_And think about it—the only reason you even hear what I say is because we are one. You hear me speak in your mind. Of course neither Dark nor the Wing Master could hear me, since I'm not a part of them.'_ He took the opportunity to wink at the phantom thief who obviously couldn't understand anything he'd just said, and had to settle for fuming silently while his host tried to get him to calm down.

'_That reminds me_…_'_

Krad paused looking over one girl's shoulder at her notes, _'What?'_

Relaxing and leaning forward to support his chin in his palms, Satoshi queried idly, _'You always call Niwa that—"Wing Master"_…_Why?'_

Slowly, a nostalgic smile found its way across the smooth features of the Hikari curse. _'It's_…_a long story actually. Funny, though, that a Niwa should be endowed with that honorific when we Hikaris deserve it more_…_'_

'_So it's not like you want to call him that?'_

'_Of course not—it's more_…_I can't help it. I've done it for so long. I cannot recall who did it first. But_…_it stems from the fact that Dark's wings_…_are not like my own.'_

'_You mean those servant wings of his? With or Wiz, or whatever he calls that stupid rabbit thing that hangs around him?'_

Krad shook his head, _'Those aren't his real wings_…_You've yet to see those_…_And I pity the fool who makes him call them_…_' _Satoshi cocked his head, a bit intrigued at something about Dark actually unsettling Krad, but he was quickly waved off. _'It's nothing—nothing!'_ To change the subject, he turned to regard the student whose desk he wasbeside now—a student who was sleeping behind a book, _'Are all your classmates this dedicated to their studies, or is this one just a special case?'_

Satoshi's eyes fell away to the student, and he smiled, trying to hide it and failing miserably, _'Saehara Takeshi doesn't seem to hold his education in the highest regard. I'm sure he'd rather be out snooping details about Dark's next job.'_

Blinking a few times, Krad stammered, _'Sa—Saehara?'_

A nod, _'He's the inspector's son—and why are you so surprised? I've spoken to him before.'_

Krad looked sheepish, then ran his eyes up and down the sleeping form a few more times, _'I_…_I suppose I never paid any attention to his name_…_' _Tilting his head and leaning down until he was at face level with the reporter, he added, _'Like father, like son, eh? His father tries to catch Dark at night_…_while he tries to catch sleep in the day—'_

"Hiwatari-kun, could you answer the question, please?"

The boy paled and blinked, head shooting up to address the teacher, and any remnants of a smile faded away quickly, "Ah—answer, ma'am?"

"Yes—the question I've asked three of your classmates already. Since I know at least _you_ pay attention in lecture, I'd be interested in hearing your response." A pause, and Satoshi struggled for words, trying to ignore the phantom thief leering at him from across the room. "Well?"

"I—ah…" He took a deep breath, prepared to humble himself and beg to be excused for his inattention, when a voice whispered in his ear.

'_She's been asking where Commodore Perry arrived_…_for the past five minutes. You're the fourth one. The Wing Master and two other girls have already been asked, and—'_

'_You were paying attention?'_

'_You weren't?'_

Satoshi gave in for the moment to apologize to the teacher and answer, "At Uraga, ma'am," before he offered a grudging _'Thanks_…_' _to his curse.

'_I guess you're pretty useful at times_…_'_

'_Oh? Only at times?' _the blonde teased, squatting down in his astral robes beside the boy's desk.

'_Yes—every other time you're just annoying.'_

Krad sighed mentally and smiled as their conversation drew to a close, settling now for watching his host from the sidelines as he paid more attention to the lecture.

When had it changed? Since the night before? When had the last time been that the two had actually held a normal conversation, even if only for a few minutes when Satoshi wanted to space out in class? There had been minimal talk of Dark or the Niwas—and even then his host had been the one to initiate that, and they'd even chatted about his classmates for a moment. Wasn't that what one normally did with someone they enjoyed being with? Just talked?

Surely Satoshi was changing his view of him, wasn't he? Krad certainly wanted to believe it—and whether it was true or not, whether or not Satoshi really _did_ look at him differently now, or whether or not he still looked at the blonde and thought "_hate_"…Krad would believe what he wanted to.

It was less painful that way.

Then the bell rang, and everything fell apart, as Daisuke slowly stood from his seat, waited until most of his classmates had congregated in their little groups or wandered outside, and marched over to his rival.

* * *

Satoshi had just put away his notes in his bag and was preparing to join the other students in tidying up the room when he was rudely reminded of the fact that there was a Niwa who wished to speak with him. _Now_.

Casting a hasty glance around the room, Daisuke swiveled his red eyes and leaned forward into Satoshi's face, glaring daggers. "What was _that?_!"

Apparently cleaning would have to wait.

Setting his history book off to the side and crossing his arms nonchalantly, Satoshi leaned back and replied simply, "I could ask you the same thing." A scoff, "Really—your curse is too uptight at times, Niwa. Krad couldn't do anything to anyone in this form anyway."

"That's _not_ what I was talking about," the redhead hissed, eyes narrowing, "You just—just _let_ him project! Let him walk around this room like he owned it? Let him—"

"He wasn't _doing_ anything."

"Yeah, and neither were you," Daisuke spat, "Which is what's got me mad."

Oh? The Niwa boy was explaining himself for once, was he? This was a change—usually he just got mad and _expected_ Satoshi to know what his problem was: and of late, that problem had become Krad more and more frequently. "Please explain just how my not being able to stop him from projecting has angered you. You don't see me making any fuss about that thief."

"It wasn't that you _couldn't_ stop him—it's that you didn't even try! Like you didn't care tha—"

"What if I didn't?" Daisuke fumbled for words, breath caught in his throat. "He wasn't hurting anyone or anything. What if I just didn't care that he manifested? What if I didn't want to make a scene here?"

The Niwa boy shook his head, "No…no, it wasn't a matter of you not caring because it wasn't a big deal…I _saw_ you… You were having a _nice_ little conversation with that bast—"

"_Shut up_."

"Oh?" Daisuke pulled back, "Have I hit something? Struck a nerve? Don't like the fact that you're being so—so _friendly_ with that guy that others are starting to notice now? Don't feel like admitting that you're getting weaker to his advances?"

Satoshi pushed his chair back and stood up straight, hands fisted at his sides, "I said. _Shut_. _Up_."

"No—I won't. I won't until you wake up and see what you're becoming!" The Hikari boy covered his ears, but Daisuke just leaned in again, "You did that body melding or whatever with him last night—and said you liked it! And just now you let him wander around the room like you didn't care that he was flaunting his freedom, and were holding a conversation with him like he was—like he was a _friend_!"

He didn't know if he wanted Niwa to stop now or to keep pushing him—he could feel something pulsing in his veins, and realized distantly that it was adrenaline, and he was pumped for another fight. Yes…it had been so long since he had really fought. Daisuke never gave him the rush fighting Dark had, once-cat-like reflexes dulling in non-use. Just a swing, just a punch, just…just to see what Niwa would do if he hit him again.

"What's he saying now? What's he whispering inside your mind? 'Cause I know he's in there, undermining me, drawing you closer." Actually, Krad wasn't saying a word, having since retired to his little corner of Satoshi's consciousness and faded into the background.

"Niwa…" Satoshi fought to keep his tone steady, "I think it's time you went back to your seat." He paused, sat back down, and picked history book up again. "I'd like to finish my room-cleaning chores, thank you. I'm in something of a rush to get home today."

Daisuke pulled back and let his hands drop to his sides, staring down with a blank face.

Then he bitterly muttered something he really should have kept to himself: "You said you loved me…but I'm beginning to think you've found someone else now…"

That was it—the final straw. The redhead turned to walk back towards his desk, until he heard a chair scrape across the floor as it was quickly pushed back. On reflex, he turned his head to the side just in time to catch Satoshi rise from his seat and slam his fists on the desktop, calling the attentions of everyone still in the room.

"That was uncalled for. _Thief_." Daisuke paled slightly at being addressed so—Hiwatari-kun had always made the distinction between himself and his curse, never calling him anything besides "Niwa" or "Niwa-kun". He eyed the boy warily now, ignoring the whispers of his classmates.

Satoshi pushed off to the side of the desk and advanced the few feet separating himself and his rival in an instant, hands clenched at his sides, ready. "I'm _so_ sick and tired of you _always butting in_—and that was _too_ far!"

Despite the gasp that went up around the room when he raised his fist in the air, most of the students had been expecting another fight—or at least, those who had seen the first one weren't too surprised.

Until something happened that shouldn't have.

Just as he was about to bring a blow down on the cheek of the already flinching Niwa, something clenched inside his chest, something very familiar, and he sank, gasping for breath, to his knees. "Wh—_what_!"

His pectoral muscles tensed up like drawn bowstrings, and he clutched frantically at the fabric over them as if he was struggling through a heart attack, almost toppling forward, until a worried Daisuke rushed to his side—their quarrel fading into the background.

"Hiwatari-kun! _Hiwatari-kun_!" He grabbed the shoulders frantically and began lightly shaking as the other boy leaned into him, almost pushing him to the ground with the force he was exerting. Other students now gathered close to try and offer the two aid. But by now, Satoshi couldn't be satisfied with human help.

Twin peaks pushed up the fabric covering his shoulder blades, mini mountains straining to break ground, until they did—but instead of breaking ground, they broke skin. Just as had happened the night before, two princely snow-white wings emerged, bent in half at first, and unfurled like a butterfly's from its cocoon, finally free of their astral bonds once more.

"Th—those…_Hiwatari-kun_!" Something flashed in his mind, though—a memory. He'd seen this happen before, when Harada-san and Saehara had followed up a target of Dark's and been caught by—"Don't let him! Don't let him out! Hiwatari-kun!" he cried frantically, though he felt, by now, that it was too late.

The pale blue head rose up to stare into quivering red eyes, utilizing every ounce of willpower he had to do so. His eyes widened but a moment, before the lids slid down like portcullises, and he had the chance to murmur only one thing:

"D—don't…it's not—not Krad…it's…me…"

And he was lost to unconsciousness, limp in Daisuke's arms.

"Oh…"

'…_shit.'_

Suddenly, he was very aware of how alone he was…and at the same time not alone. Satoshi had fainted after sprouting a pair of wings. In front of most of his class. This was not conducive to keeping things secret. Had he been in his right mind, and in some other situation away from this all, the boy might have been angry with his rival that he'd been left to clean up this "mess".

Instead, his thoughts were running a mile a minute, hardly letting his own curse get a word in edgewise.

Alright—alright, he had to calm down, that was first: Hiwatari-kun was lying here on the floor with white wings…this was going to be hard to explain, but…but surely not impossible, right?

'_Daisuke_—_what the hell are you talking about? HUMANS DON'T SPROUT WINGS!'_ If he could have hit his host, he surely would have right now.

The room was dead silent for another few moments, before a quivering female voice broke the tension, "Wh—what…what's going on here?" He distantly registered the voice as Riku's, "Niwa-kun…Hiwatari-kun…"

Daisuke simply stared down at the unconscious boy in his arms, finally yielding to his curse's prodding, and eased Satoshi onto the floor, settling him stomach-down so as not to damage the wings which sheltered their user protectively in a great white tent.

Saehara stepped forward, with the obvious intent to help Daisuke move the Hikari boy and make him more comfortable, but the redhead snapped in an unusually sharp tone, "Don't touch him! Don't anyone touch him!"

The reporter jerked his hand back as if he'd touched a hot surface, frowning at his friend in confusion, "O—oi, Daisuke…what's—"

"Shut up. I can't hear." Daisuke stood up slowly and closed his eyes in concentration, paying close heed to his curse and trying to mute out the confused murmurs breaking out among his classmates.

'_Daisuke_…_you know we can't leave this. Something has to be done.'_

'_I know!' _His mental voice was tainted with the confusion and anxiety of his normal voice now, _'But I can't think of—he has wings, Dark! How am I supposed to fix that!'_

The thief was doing his very best to calm down his host, but it seemed pretty futile, until he remarked, _'It can be fixed, Dai_…_just_…_not easily.'_

Head shooting to attention as if he'd just undergone an epiphany of sorts, immediately every eye was on him again, and this time Risa prodded him, "Ne…Niwa-kun, wh—what's going on?" She paused when he didn't answer, "…You knew…about this?" It was a logical deduction to make—the redhead was the most calm of the group, and the least surprised, the natural leader.

He still didn't respond. _'What do you have in mind?'_

'_Hiwatari's outta commission, I assume, and we can't let this sit—it'll spread throughout the town, this guy'll be in big trouble, and eventually that'll get me in trouble as well.' _It almost made Daisuke laugh, how his curse was able to still pull sarcasm in this situation.

'_So?'_

A mental sigh, _'_…_Kioku Soushitsu_… _Erasing their memories_…_'_

Red eyes snapped around the room, flying from face to face in panic, _'Y—you mean_…_erase this_…_from all of their memories!' _A wave of agreement washed over him, and he suddenly felt very nauseous. _'There's_…_no other way?'_

'_Afraid not_…_You can't explain away wings ripping out of someone's back—or if you think you can, I'd like to see you try. This is the only choice left.'_

'_I know, I just_…_it feels wrong, to mess with someone's memories_…_'_

'_Are you saying that_…_because that's what he did that one time?'_

There was a slight hesitation in the response. _'_…_I just don't want you to become like Krad_…_'_

A mental laugh reverberated through his skull, relaxing him slightly. _'Fat chance of that happening, kid.'_

'_Alright, so what do I do?' _A deep pause settled on his mindscape. _'Dark?'_

'_Well, yeah_…_that's the tricky part_…_'_

'_What is?'_

'…_You're gonna have to transform into me.'_

"WHAT!" Once again, every eye that had wandered to Satoshi's prone form or turned to their neighbor in wonder snapped back to Daisuke…now pondering if their classmate was alright in the head, since he seemed to be having a nice conversation with himself.

'_You can't do magic! And we need my wings anyway—With doesn't respond to your touch; it has to be me!'_

'_I—I get that but—can't I just use one of Hiwatari-kun's feathers!'_

'_Of course not, idiot! A Niwa? Using a Hikari possession successfully?'_

'_Well, alright, I'll give you that, but—'_

'—_But what? They'll only know for a moment regardless. Once I modify their memories they'll forget any of this—you, me, and Hiwatari. It'll be back to normal_…_'_

There was a long pause as Daisuke weighed his choices, or lack thereof. Dark made perfect sense, and there really was no other choice: he couldn't perform any Niwa magic as he was, and he couldn't use With anyway. He had to…_had_ to.

"…I understand…" He turned slowly to face his classmates, who seemed to actually sense something and took a step back, giving him a bit of room. Of course, it could have been worry at seeing such a serious expression on the face of a boy who was usually one of the most cheerful students in the class.

He locked his gaze on a pair of worried brown eyes. "…I'm sorry…Riku-san."

The girl's eyes widened, and her sister huddled closer, "Wh—what're you saying that for?" No reply, and Daisuke stepped back, bringing his hands up to cover his face. "Niwa-kun!"

He wasn't listening anymore—at least not to outside voices. All he heard now was his curse guiding him and calming him, enveloping his senses in relaxing mental waves to soothe his agitation, _'Just let go_…_I'll take care of everything, Daisuke_… _Trust me, I will_…_'_

'_I know you will_…_But it doesn't make this any easier.'_

'…_I'm sorry, kid—I know you weren't ready for something like this.'_

He shook his head, _'Not your fault—so no apologizing, alright?'_ Sighing low, he prepared himself mentally, making room for his curse to move to the forefront of his mind, and releasing control as gently as he could.

His mental bonds pulled away like rope ties setting him adrift as he pulled his own consciousness away from its usual post and let Dark take over. It certainly wasn't their normal method of exchange, for this was one that could only be used when he had the _time_ to concentrate so deeply as now. Most any other time still required the infamous love stimulus.

"_Na, Daisuke_…_Did you get taller?"_ Saehara had remarked one day not too long ago, attesting to the fact that he'd finally caught up, vertically, to Dark—though the thief was still more evenly muscled than the Niwa boy could ever hope to be any time soon. Because of this, he didn't grow up at all—but this was hardly noticed by onlookers compared to the _other_ changes.

His short-cropped red locks turned a dusky violet hue, spilling down his neck in long flowing tendrils of royal purple, and staining his covered eyes a tint that most assuredly did not belong to any human member of the Niwa clan. His body and appendages filled out more, filling out the muscles which served a phantom thief well in dashing from the police or scaling tall museum walls.

The hands were no longer an effective method of hiding.

Dark—for it was now Dark, through and through—let his palms fall away and straightened up, staring at his audience with a rarely-seen expression on his face: solemnity. The always-good-natured phantom thief was in no mood to play around right now.

Of course, the students weren't about to keep quiet for any long amount of time. Riku was the first, breath stolen by the man's sudden appearance—more so, his appearance from the _body_ of one of those closest to her. Her hands flew to her mouth in shock, eyes trembling in disbelief, and she suddenly comprehended why Daisuke had apologized.

Her sister actually seemed to be taking the event more calmly, clutching Riku close as she too struggled futilely to make some sense of it all. "…Ni…wa…kun…?" she tested, though her heart had already told her the words that came out of the mouth in that familiar rolling tenor.

"…I'm not Daisuke."

It seemed too much for Riku, who slipped into a dead faint, barely caught by Risa. The younger twin called out in fear and turned pleading eyes to the phantom thief as if begging him to help her, but he had much more important matters to attend to at the moment.

Instead, he stepped back and barked a harsh command into the silence, "With! _Come_!"

Not wasting a moment to obey his master, a fluffy form leapt out of seemingly nowhere and perched on Dark's left shoulder like some big-eared white fuzzy parrot, _kyuu_-ing softly to his master as he nuzzled the smooth cheek. In gratitude, the thief reached up to pet the creature's head, instead unlocking the seal encoded in the Niwa pet's DNA.

With seemed to explode into a shower of feathers and ripped through Daisuke's school shirt to latch onto Dark's shoulder blades, unfurling and rolling off the back like two great black shredded flags. He propped the appendages open like a parachute, nearly stretching the span of the room and being sure not to hit any of the students who looked on in shocked silence. Hey, who said he couldn't show off?

He reached with his right hand over the same left shoulder With had just been perched on a moment before, and flinched in pain as he plucked a single iridescent black feather near the point of attachment where the appendages latched onto his skin. Holding it high in the air over the children, they naturally all turned their heads upward to look at it now.

Then, a flash of light, and fifteen bodies simultaneously dropped to the ground in as deep a state of unconsciousness as Riku and Satoshi, miraculously missing hitting their heads on desks and each other as they slipped down.

The phantom thief sighed and let the feather, no longer needed, drift slowly to the floor at his feet, and turned back to bend down and address Satoshi's still-unconscious form.

"You know…the things I do for you and that host of mine…" He scooped up Satoshi's still-winged body and darted out the door, praying his spell had bought him enough privacy to get to the roof at least.

* * *

Dark had, as a good phantom thief should be able to, managed to escape the notice of any teachers or other students as he darted down the halls and up the stairs to the roof as directed by his host. He was cradling the Hikari boy close so as to keep the huge white wings from flapping about aimlessly, taking the stairs two at a time.

'_There! At the end of the hall! There's a janitor's office with a bed—no one ever uses it anymore, but it should be unlocked!'_

"Right," Dark huffed in reply, shifting the boy's body so it hung over one shoulder, and reached forward to sling the door open. The interior was deceptively spacious, not obvious at all from the outside. He'd been expecting a cramped little room, but this was at least as large as the school's nurse's office. Flicking on a dim overhead lamp, he stepped over to the mattress, pondering how best to position Satoshi on it.

As if in answer to his unasked question, Krad flickered into view, glaring daggers at the thief who was holding his Satoshi-sama in such an intimate manner. Dark blinked a few times as the blonde mimed setting the boy down, then broke into a leering grin.

"Yo, Krad," he greeted slyly. The Hikari curse just continued to glare, then his mouth began moving rapidly, unleashing a silent tirade that Dark, of course, couldn't even hear. "Tsk, tsk," he chided, jerking his head to refer to Satoshi, "I'm sure you wouldn't want this kid to hear you talking like that, now would you?"

The astral image flushed angrily, but Krad quickly reined himself in and began once again miming what he wanted the thief to do, cupping his arms in a cradle and motioning setting something down on the bed. Dark cocked a head in confusion, thoroughly enjoying riling up the blonde when there was nothing Krad could do about it.

"Aah, okay, I think I've got it." He moved a hand down and playfully squeezed Satoshi's backside, "First—you want me to cop a feel, right?" Golden eyes widened, face flushing a violent purple-red, and Dark would swear he could see a tiny vein pop out from the blonde's temple—this was just _too_ easy. "And then…you want me to—_what_?" He waxed incredulous, "You want me to—_drop him out the window_! Krad, I'm surprised at you! I thought you _liked_ this host!"

Daisuke had fainted dead away, and the Hikari curse was shaking in anger now with his mouth moving again as he launched into a new string of silent profanities that would have made even Dark himself blush. When Krad offered him a rude gesture with his hand and made a move as if to try and strangle him, even though they couldn't touch one another in this state, the kaitou finally gave in and brushed him off.

"Get a grip—he'll be fine." He now set the boy down on his stomach, letting the wings rest open on his back so he wouldn't crush them. Daring a glance up at the still seething Krad, he added as a reassurance, "Your host's not even my type. Creepy and anti-social apparently doesn't turn me on like it does _you_."

Krad ignored the remark this time and moved closer, squatting down until he was nearly at eye level with his sleeping host. He opened his mouth to try and rouse the boy, but Dark stopped him with a warning, "Don't—don't wake him yet. He's had a lot taken out of him with those wings of yours. If I were you I'd do something about _those_ first. The longer they stay out in the physical plane, the more they're just gonna sap his energy. You know that."

Grimacing, though Krad hated to admit that his enemy was right on the mark, the blonde faded back to the astral plane to concentrate his efforts into relieving his Tamer of his feathery burden.

'…_Hiwatari-kun's gonna be alright, isn't he?'_

Dark looked up, then broke into a soft smile. That host of his was always worried about _some_thing. "He'll be fine. Just, the sooner he loses those wings, the better. It's not so big a deal for me or Krad to waltz around with our wings, since we've got such large Astral reserves. But if you or Hiwatari were to bear them for too long…well…" He nodded towards the body on the bed, "See for yourself. He'll just feel really tired and have one hell of a headache when he wakes, though. Shouldn't be anything more serious than that."

'_Thank goodness,'_ Daisuke breathed. _'_…_Can I come back now?'_

Without another word, Dark smoothly ceded control to his host, glad to be able to get out of Daisuke's tight clothing and back into less constraining astral garb. The boy slid into a chair situated behind the janitor's desk and crossed his arms, prepared to wait however long he needed to in order to be sure that his friend was fine.

'_Wait—we're not going now? I told you he'd be fine!'_

"I know—I know. I just want to be sure! I mean, he might have some questions or something when he wakes up, and I don't want him to think he's been kidnapped when he wakes up in _this_ kind of place." He cast a glance to his watch. "It's been almost a half an hour already—people should be waking back up now, won't they?"

'_They'll just think it was a gas leak or something. Though they might wonder where you are.'_

"But they—no one'll remember what happened right? Riku-san won't—she'll forget that…that you're me, right?"

Glad that his host couldn't see his face right then, Dark returned as cheerfully as possible, _'Of course they'll forget—have a little faith in me, won't you? If there's one thing I know how to do, it's keep secrets.'_

* * *

It was another hour before anything worthy of notice happened, and Daisuke was sure that everyone had gone home by now. It was past noon already, and that meant the short school day was over. His stomach was starting to voice its protest at not having been filled recently, and he shifted uneasily, casting a worried glance at the still sleeping boy on the bed.

At least the wings had disappeared, shattering like glass into a million white feathers, and dissipating into astral dust before they even touched the ground. Whatever Krad had done had worked, and for that, Daisuke was glad.

Well, he was glad that the wings were gone, not that it was Krad who'd made that happen. If he'd thought Dark could have done it himself, he would have propositioned his thief to do the deed. But the conversation he'd heard between the two curses earlier seemed to imply that this was something that had to be taken care of from the inside out—meaning Krad had to do it, if anyone.

After the wings disappeared, nothing else happened the whole afternoon save Dark occasionally prodding him asking if they could go home yet. The sun was making its trek towards the western horizon, and Daisuke had just begun pondering what his mother would be preparing for dinner that evening when Satoshi finally stirred, brows knitting in annoyance at being roused. Darting over to stand beside the bed, the Niwa boy leaned forward, staring worriedly at his friend. "Hiwatari-kun? Are you okay? Ne, Hiwatari-kun?"

Blue eyes flickered open slowly, fixing their gaze on Daisuke after noting the surroundings. "Ni…wa?"

Releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, the redhead broke into a large grin. "You're alright!"

'_Of course he is; I told you he would be.'_ Daisuke simply rolled his eyes, and Satoshi didn't bother to question the action.

"What…what happened?" the Hikari boy questioned after a moment, pushing himself into an upright position and noting with some worry that his shoulders seemed unusually sore. "I…all I remember…is being in the classroom, and we fought… Something happened—my chest…hurt…" As if recalling the pain, he brought a hand up and grasped the fabric over his heart.

The grin faded from Daisuke's face, replaced by a grim countenance, and he lowered his eyes.

'_You won't want to hear it, Satoshi-sama,'_ was his only response.

"That's for me to decide and you to shut up and let me hear," the boy ground out softly to his curse, not wanting to get into yet another bout of arguing with Daisuke. "Tell me what happened, Niwa. I don't care if I won't like it."

Nodding slowly, the redhead caved. "We…we did argue. And…I said that—well…what made you mad…and then something happened. I don't know _why_…but you just kind of…collapsed. You well to the floor and I thought that—that…_he_ was trying to come out, but you said it wasn't him. That it was you. And then you—just…those _wings_ came out—"

"Wha—in front of everyone!" Another solemn nod, and Satoshi's eyes widened in horror. "Then…they…know?"

"No," Daisuke assured him, and though the Hikari boy felt this should have relieved him, he was even more unsettled by the added, "I…Dark and I…fixed it…"

"…_How_?" he queried darkly, silently cursing. He was going to wind up in that thief's debt somehow—wasn't _that_ a fine mess to be in?

Daisuke continued to avoid looking him in the eye. "_Ki—kioku soushitsu_…"

"You—let him use _that_!" Satoshi exploded, leaping from the bed and wincing as he pulled his shoulder muscles tighter than they seemed to want to stretch. "He could've—what if they'd—"

"It was the only way!" Daisuke snapped back unusually harshly, "You think I _wanted_ to do that? To let him do something that your—that _Krad_ did? And I even had to transform! You just grew wings—I had to go all the way! If Dark hadn't erased their memories, who knows how much trouble we'd be in? There'd probably be news crews all over my house by now, I'd have to move out of the country, and…" He slowed his tirade as he watched the Hikari boy's countenance fall, obvious guilt washing over him like a wave. "I…sorry…it wasn't that big a deal…"

"Yes it was," Satoshi countered, running a hand through his hair in a nervous habit, "Dammit…" He shot his gaze back up to stare at Daisuke, but it was evident the Niwa boy wasn't what he was focusing on. "You just helped _me_. Don't think this means anything to _him_, Dark. You know better than anyone else that he doesn't care about our secret getting out, so it's not like you did him any favors back there."

Daisuke frowned again, "Hey—he wasn't thinking of anything like that!"

"Oh get a clue, Niwa! He's _Dark_! Of course he was!"

"No he—Dark, do you hear this?" A pause, then a soft blush. "Oh…ne—never mind…I guess he _would_ do that…"

Satoshi merely replied with a soft "hmph," then swung his legs over to the side of the bed, standing shakily.

"Wait—I don't think you should—"

"Thank you, Niwa."

Daisuke blinked, then returned softly, "You don't have to thank me for something like that… I mean, it helped _me_ too—"

"Yes I do have to thank you. Because if I don't give you at least that, then I know I'll wind up in some situation in the future where Dark will be able to use that to his advantage and I'll regret it. A Hikari never leaves a debt unrepaid, so though I cannot think of some way at the moment, I'm sure I'll come up with something in the future. For now, please accept my words of gratitude."

It showed just how great an effect all his years at the Academy had had on Satoshi that throughout his entire speech of thanks, his voice didn't change one bit, staying soft and dull. It was simply duty to recite it, simply family duty. Simply Hikari duty.

"Forgive me for causing you such trouble Niwa." No smile. "My careless gallivanting has deepened our rift, and that truly was not my intention." Not even the batting of an eye. "Thank you, I am in your debt." Satoshi stood, rubbed his stiff shoulders again, and walked out the door, leaving Daisuke standing in silence.

"You can repay me…" the Niwa boy muttered to no one, "By coming to your senses…"

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ Another week, another chapter. I apologize for what seemed like random jumping around between the end of one chapter and beginning ofthe next that happened a few chaptersback, but that's how it _was_ supposed to be, not linear, with time passing between ends of chapters and beginnings of chapters. Sorry for the confusion! Next week: a treat for all of you who wanted more Kosuke/Satoshi interaction 


	14. We Need to Talk

_Galatea_

_Fourteenth Movement: We Need to Talk_

"Listen. Don't explain or justify."

_William Dyer _

* * *

Daisuke sighed loudly as he reached for the front door handle, already working up in his mind an excuse for his tardy return home. But the door swung open before he could even lay a finger on the doorknob, revealing a glaring Emiko, with Kosuke and Daiki looking on from a safe distance.

"Well? Just _what_ is the meaning of this, Niwa Daisuke? _Three hours late_ from school! Three! You'd better have a _good_ reason—and let me warn you now, unless it had something to do with casing a museum for your next job Monday evening, it's _not_ a good reason." She stepped back to let the boy in, tapping her foot impatiently and hardening her glare.

Daisuke looked away, though by now he was used to the Niwa matriarch's tantrums, and rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture. "Well…I—it _did_ have to do with Dark…" He dared a glance up, putting on his best innocent look, "…Does that count?"

Emiko apparently didn't think so. "Living room. _Now_. I want an explanation, mister. Have you any idea how worried I've been?" She gave him a little shove forward towards the den, throwing her hands in the air melodramatically. "No word at all! Not even a note sent home with With! Now how much trouble would that have been, honestly? A simple _note_!"

"But—I…" Daisuke paused and plopped down on the couch while his parents and grandfather took the adjacent one. "I guess…I didn't think about that…"

"Apparently so." Emiko pursed her lips in a thin line and reached forward for her cup of tea, still steaming and sitting on the coffee table in front of them. "Please regale us with your _thrilling_ explanation."

Daisuke closed his eyes, already flinching inwardly. "I…umm, I…transformed. At school. In…in front of everyone…"

Emiko's tea was gone. And now the carpet was ruined, as she'd dropped her cup and spit out the bit she'd already sipped.

"Y—you _what_!"

"But—but Hiwatari-kun did too! Well, halfway, kinda…I had to go all the way, and it was kinda his fault—"

"HE _WHAT_!"

"No—no, listen, Mom!" He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it in frustration, "I took care of it! Dark just…erased everyone's memories."

"Oh well _that_ makes me feel _much_ better!" the woman huffed, turning to look at her husband and father, who'd been baffled into silence. "Well _say_ something, won't you two!"

"Daisuke…" Daiki shook his head, unsure of how to proceed.

"Daisuke…" Kosuke was a perfect mirror to his father-in-law.

"TOWA! MORE TEA!" Emiko began massaging her temples. "F—fine…why don't you just…start at the beginning…"

The boy gave a firm nod, then plunged into a thorough description of the recent events, starting with the previous night's reconnaissance at the museum and leading all the way up to their encounter in the janitor's office near the school roof.

His mother was now beside herself. "I just can't believe that things have gotten _this _bad with that boy—and you! Kosuke-san! I can't believe you gave him Redival!"

"Redi-what?" Daisuke echoed.

"That ring! Rutile's companion piece!" She shook her head in disbelief, still frowning at her husband. "I know you meant well, but now look what's happened!"

Kosuke ducked his head in embarrassment. "Well…I do admit, it was my intention to _separate_ the two, give them some time apart…not to bring them closer…"

"I should hope so!"

"I'm surprised it even worked," Daiki added, scratching his beard in thought. "We haven't used one of the sealing pieces in nearly a hundred years. It must've been at least two or three incarnations ago, if not more. Guess that goes to show you we Niwas are still a match for those Hikaris. Sad to see one like Redival go to such a waste…"

"Well, it _did_ work," Kosuke returned, "so that means if anyone's at fault for today's events…it would be me."

"But…" Daisuke jumped in, curious now that the yelling had subsided, "What exactly does it do? That…Redouble."

"_Redival_," his father gently corrected, "And I believe you saw what it did. I gave it to Satoshi-kun a little over a month ago, after his father's funeral. It was actually in that letter I asked you to deliver to him." Daisuke gave a small nod; he remembered it now. "I knew that he'd been having…well, turmoil with his curse—" what an understatement, "—and I just…wanted to give him a little break. I'd intended him to use it to kind of…let himself go, just once. Not to worry about transforming or hurting anyone, to be able to keep his mind, if not his body. I felt that that fact alone—that he _could_ hold on to himself if he tried—would give him the strength to keep fighting, _knowing_ that he could beat Krad some day.

"I never thought…he'd use it like this…" He turned his gaze to his son. "And…you say it was completely voluntary?"

Daisuke nodded, "He told me so himself; and it's not like he'd have any reason to lie." Frowning, he added, "And I know he's telling the truth anyway; he's been getting awfully close to Krad lately…figures something like this would happen."

Daiki leaned his head back, resting his tired eyes, "My my…it seems this incarnation is just full of problems. We never had incidents like this back in my day." Daisuke turned to stare at his grandfather, eyes wondering. "Of course, I didn't have Krad to contend with, so maybe I wasn't as good as I thought. But I reckoned Dark and I were a pretty good pair."

'_Damn straight, old man,'_ the thief added silently, and Daisuke smiled.

'_I hope you and I can still be friends if I have a son and you come to him,'_ the boy returned.

'_Course we will be,' _Dark assured him, though the thought of how messed up the next Niwa might be if he had Daisuke and Riku as parents sent a slight shiver down his spine. _'We'll always be_…_friends.'_

* * *

'…_What do you mean what do I think about all this?'_

Daisuke sighed, defeated, and hung his head from his spot on his bed. After the discussion with his parents and grandfather, he'd come upstairs to his room to sulk. "_This_! This whole situation—with Hiwatari-kun and Krad! Don't tell me you just sit up in my head and sleep all day; I _know_ you've got some kind of opinion on what's—what's going on between them…" He dared an upward glance at his curse, whose image sat cross-legged across from him at the foot of his bed.

Dark stared straight at him with a serious mien that rarely crossed the thief's features, and his host half-regretted asking the question. "I—just…I mean…if you don't feel like tal—"

'_Answer me a question, Dai,'_ Dark pressed, leaning forward, _'_…_Would you have ever_…_ever considered doing _…_ something like that?'_

"Something…like…?"

'_The ring, Daisuke. Using it—on me. Using it to take on my for—'_

"_No_!" the redhead fired back almost immediately, and Dark jerked away instinctively, sending an embarrassed flush across his Tamer's features, "I—I mean…sorry…" He hung his head even lower now, "I just couldn't believe you would ask me something like that…"

'_Why shouldn't I want to know?'_

"Because! You should _already_ know!" From the confused look on his curse's visage, Daisuke could tell he'd have to give his explanation—one he wasn't all that comfortable with divulging. "I would never…_never_ want to use you like that—it would just be…wrong!"

'_Wrong?' _Dark parroted, hurt leaking into his mental voice, _'But—if it was mutual—'_

Daisuke shook his head vehemently, "No! It's still _wrong_! You should never let yourself be used that way! There's no _point_ to it! Why would _anyone_—"

'_Trust, Dai.'_ The boy froze, eyebrows drawing together in concern, _'That's why. It's all about trust. Trust from the curse to the Tamer, just—symbolic, I guess. I mean—' _He ducked his head, dodging his host's curious stare, _'If_…_if you had had a ring like that, or if you had the chance_…_I'd let you, y'know_…_be me.'_

Gulping thickly, Daisuke felt his stomach churn guiltily—he'd just implied that Dark was an idiot for wanting to trust him. But—was he? Was he really worthy of the trust of the being he was physically closest to?

'_I don't know what went on with those two,' _he continued, either unaware of or ignoring Daisuke's thoughts, _'But if you wanted to_…_I'd let you.' _When Daisuke still gave no response, he tried to strengthen his argument by playing up the ritual itself, _'I mean—didn't you see what it was like for that Hiwatari? Didn't you even_…_wonder what it would be like?' _He desperately wanted to hear his host's thoughts on the subject now, and he wasn't even _really_ sure why.

What did he care if Daisuke was inherently wary of a curse/host relationship beyond simply _curse/host_? Well? What should it matter to him if his own host broke apart any bonds that might have formed between the Hikari heir and his curse—simply because Daisuke was prejudiced to that sort of relationship between a Tamer and Tamed?

It wasn't like Dark _wanted_ to see if a curse and host could fit like that—it wasn't! He just…

"It's not that—that I didn't want to, really," came a small voice from across the bed, "Just…it'd be _wrong_," he repeated once more. "You—you'd trust me like that, with your body, and I appreciate it! I do, but—I don't think…that I could…handle it. You trusting me that much." He began to fiddle with a stray string coming loose from his comforter. "What if—what if something went wrong, or I…got you hurt? Or _caught_? You're a much better kaitou than I could ever be—" Dark didn't even attempt to refute him, "—and, just…I couldn't take knowing that just because I wanted to try something like that, I got you in any trouble…

"You're _not_…a curse. Not to me—no matter what Hiwatari-kun says! You're not even just a spirit who shares my mind…you're real! You're…you're another _person_, with thoughts and feelings—feelings I…don't want to risk hurting by asking for something as serious as…as relinquishing complete control over your body…"

Dark was speechless for a moment, stunned into silence by his host's all-too-endearing reasoning for turning down his offer. Hastily, though, he put his normal happy-go-lucky façade back up and cracked a grin, _'Na, Daisuke_…_'_ He leaned forward, smiling softly, _'Did I ever tell you that you were my favorite host?'_ A burst of red spread over the boy's face, and Dark couldn't help laughing.

Daisuke fumed silently for a moment, letting his blush die away, before pressing again, "You _still_ haven't answered my question though." At Dark's questioning glance, he clarified, "About Hiwatari-kun and Krad!"

Sighing, Dark finally broke down and decided he had to give his host a straight answer. _'Look, all I'm trying to say, Dai, is_…_just, isn't it getting old? Can't you just_…_let them be?' _The look in the boy's eye was quick to let him know he would _not_ just "let them be." _'Alright, alright, I get it—Krad's a bastard and Hiwatari's been through enough hell without having to be manipulated even more just 'cause you dumped him and he had no one else to tur—'_

"You're making it sound like this is all _my_ fault," Daisuke grumbled, glaring at his curse.

'_Well?' _Dark cocked an eyebrow, and the boy looked away, pouting. _'You wanna know what I think?' _Daisuke turned back now, and the thief made sure to carefully choose his words, weaving them into conversation that he hoped wouldn't render him too transparent, _'I think_…_that you're really wary of this_…_thing, whatever it is, that's going on between a guy you view as a good friend and another you view as your and my worst enemy.' _At seeing the boy's attempt to interrupt here, he quickly assuaged him with, _'And you're right to be—I'm not defending them_…_per se. It's just, you're kind of_…_' _He hesitated a moment, and had to be prodded to continue.

'…_Well, you're kind of—you're just a little—hell, you're the nosiest Niwa I've ever had the pleasure of cursing.'_

Red eyes blinked stupidly. "I'm…_what_!"

'_You're nosy, Dai!' _the thief repeated, though his voice had taken on an almost pitifully pleading tone, as if he was begging his Tamer not to shoot the messenger, _'Those two—I've never bothered the Hikari host/curse relationship, and they never bother me in my relationships with my hosts! It's not our place!'_

"But—!"

'_I know you're worried about him, and I know you love him as a friend and don't want him getting hurt, but_…_there're these unwritten rules, see_…_'_

"Screw the rules!" Daisuke snapped, "This isn't some stupid _game_, Dark! You and Krad may have gotten bored over the years and made up some secret code that you two abide by, but I'm not gonna sit here and let that—that _demon_ deceive the closest thing I ever had to a real friend into thinking that he actually _cares_!"

Dark flinched inwardly at Hiwatari being the closest thing his host had ever had to a friend. If that was so—then what was Dark himself?

"If you really understood whatever's going on between them, you wouldn't be so quick to just give up and let them be! You'd be helping me think of how to get Hiwatari-kun back to his senses."

The cold glare that fell upon Dark from his host was almost physically painful, and the thief desperately wanted to retreat into his corner of the boy's consciousness and flee from any further harsh words being flung upon him. He wasn't used to arguing like this with his Tamer.

Sure, they had their little spats, hardly ever anything of a serious nature. Dark would tease Daisuke about taking his relationship with Riku beyond simple blushes and kisses on the cheek, and the boy would respond with a scathing lecture which would simply roll off the thief's back. Then Daisuke would don his "high and mighty" mental smirk whenever Dark got caught off guard by Krad on a night they had a job—after, of course, giving his curse a sound reaming. Such was their life together.

But delving into such topics as incarnations past with the boy…was a strain on their relationship. Daisuke just _couldn't_ understand how he and Krad interacted over the years. The fine lines neither one crossed. How Krad loved his Hikaris and Dark his Niwas, how those Tamers could never—_never_ learn of these feelings, as it would be folly for all involved, a broken road of heartache.

Though…hadn't Krad himself broken the rules this time round? It helped that the blonde's own Tamer seemed to hate him, spurning the frustratingly frequent, _'You are mine and mine alone, Satoshi-sama'_s and _'Have you any idea the passion you stoke in me, Satoshi-sama?'_s. Nevertheless, Dark was growing increasingly restless…Krad _knew_ how this would end, and yet he continued the fool's errand of chasing after his Tamer. Even Dark wasn't that stupid—when one was a bloodline curse such as they, one learned a great deal about keeping true feelings hidden from the prying eyes of the little boys they possessed.

Whatever the reason…if Krad had cheated, had thrown away their carefully erected set of rules…what did that mean for Dark himself? He didn't _want_ to throw them away—he basked in the protection of boundaries he mustn't cross to keep himself, in heart and soul, safe.

It was a cold, taunting freedom he was faced with now. He could join Daisuke and show Krad the error of his ways—show him that you _cannot_ be allowed happiness as a bloodline curse, that you yourself are cursed in that way. Stomp all over the bud of whatever was happening between Hiwatari and the blonde…and thus stomp all over Dark's own feelings…

Or he could confront that coldness, rush headlong into the biting wind and—

And utterly lay waste to his bond with his own Tamer.

'…_You're right, Dai_…_so maybe that just means I don't really understand what's going on between those two. I never claimed to know, not for sure—just_…_tried my best to project on them.' _He sighed softly and looked right into his host's confused stare—Daisuke obviously hadn't expected Dark to agree so compliantly with him.

'_Would you mind_…_thinking about one thing for me, though?' _The red eyes didn't move their gaze._ 'If_…_if it wasn't Hiwatari and Krad_…_if it was someone else_…_do you think you'd still be interfering like this?' _

"…'Someone else'? I don't—"

'_Let me put it this way_… _Would you want Hiwatari interfering_…_if it were you and me?'_

* * *

It was another full minute before the shock of Dark's question wore off enough to where Daisuke actually found the strength to even _contemplate_ responding, at which point he plunged into a flood of babbling nonsense about how the two of them _weren't_ like that, in case Dark hadn't noticed, and what in the world did that have to do with Hiwatari-kun and Krad and was Dark even _listening_ anymore?

No, Dark wasn't.

It was the furthest he could let himself tread; any more and he'd risk toppling the card-house relationship he'd erected with the boy. He abandoned the astral form he'd used while conversing with Daisuke, plunging the room into blackness once more and leaving his Tamer calling futilely for him. Retreating into his little corner of his host's mind, he curled into a ball of thought and brooded.

He hadn't really expected anything to come of the simple question—not seriously. But it was the closest he could come, short of outright confessing, to getting Daisuke's opinion on…well, on certain subjects involving a curse and his host. The closest he could come to discerning if it was just the fact that the curse was Krad and the host Hiwatari that drove the boy to such lengths to try and separate them.

…Why oh _why_ did his Tamer have to…_care_ so much? Why did he have to be so _sensitive_? This was the _Hikari_ clan they were talking about! Anything that made Dark's job easier was supposed to be a _good_ thing!

It was very difficult, though, for Dark to convince himself that he should be angry with his host for such feelings. In truth, he was deeply moved by them, admiring them from afar with an emotion just shy of jealousy. Daisuke didn't want to hurt anyone, friend _or_ foe. At times, the thief found this quite frustrating, particularly in a battle situation when Dark came upon a perfect opportunity to kick Satoshi while he was down. It was always, _"No! We can't do something like that to Hiwatari-kun!" _or _"That's just not fair—don't do that, Dark!"_ Just when he'd gotten the Hikari host _right_ where he'd wanted him…Daisuke had to go and spoil his fun.

In the black and white feud between the Niwas and Hikaris…his host was shades of gray. Daisuke didn't seem capable of making up his mind…and some day it would invariably hurt him.

The boy was too _complex_, such a veritable maze of emotions! He loved Riku, and was—still?—friends with Hiwatari. Yet despite being confessed to by Satoshi, he turned down that same love he'd already given to the elder Harada twin, hoping instead to keep the friendship he'd developed with the Hikari boy. Daisuke didn't want to hate or be hated; didn't want to be too near, and yet couldn't _help_ being near—

Great, now Dark had a headache from trying to psychoanalyze the kid. Doubtless, Daisuke was feeling it as well and pondering its source.

Dark sighed, frustrated. Couldn't his Tamer just love _one_ person? Couldn't he be close to just _one _person?

Dark could. And did. That was all he _ever_ did: each incarnation he bonded with his host, through their minds, through the very fibers of their being, in ways that Synchronization couldn't even _begin_ to mirror. Bonded with his precious Niwas, forgetting all others. He might occasionally be distracted by a pretty face—let it never be said that Kaitou Dark wasn't one to appreciate a nice figure—but he would always return to the side of the one he served first, for no one was as close to him as his Tamer.

As a bloodline curse, without true form…he was ingrained with the base desire to be important…to _someone_. And it just felt better when it was to the person with whom he was most closely bonded.

Daisuke couldn't understand, of course—and Dark didn't blame him. The boy was a human, despite any trace magic that might flow in his Niwa blood. When all was stripped away, he was real and Dark was not; he could _afford_ to stretch himself thin, spread his love around, and Dark could not.

He could look at Hiwatari's and Krad's relationship with contempt, could try and break it, could yell and rage on about Hiwatari falling into the blonde's trap.

And Dark…could not.

* * *

It was barely 7:00 when Satoshi wearily climbed the stairs back up to his apartment and fumbled for the keys in his pocket, glad for once that he'd just shoved them in his pocket and hadn't left them in his bag, which was still at school. Despite it being so early in the evening, the events of the day had worn him out, sapping whatever energy the ring had left him with, then drawing on his own reserves. Rubbing the back of his neck to try and release a bit of the tension, he hissed in pain as he reached a bit too close to one of his shoulder blades.

First things first: inspect the damage. If how he felt on this side was any reflection of what his _back_ looked like…it wasn't going to be pretty. He padded slowly into the bathroom after removing his shoes at the door, and flinched as he tried to gently remove his button-up shirt.

Once inside, he flicked on the light and let the material fall to the floor, not bothering to toss it into the clothes hamper. Instead, he edged back-first in front of the tall mirror, and craned his neck to peer over his shoulder at his reflection.

As expected, he _wasn't_ happy with the sight—and neither, apparently, was Krad, who slipped into astral form with a quiet gasp, face contorted in horror as he held himself back from reaching out to touch the wounds.

His back looked like some mad calligraphy artist had snatched up a butcher knife and carved hedonistic symbols into his skin, using black blood as his ink. Alien symbols wound up around his shoulder blades, slid down his backbone, teased the nape of his neck, and dared to assault his lumbar region with tendrils of black flame—all a dark reminder of the afternoon's happenings.

"So?" he huffed after a few minutes of silently assessing the damage, tentatively fingering one tendril that reached up to his neck, "…Why did they come out?"

Biting his lip and not entirely sure if he would be yelled at again, Krad hesitantly offered the best reply he could at this point in time, _'I think_…_it was the Synchronization_…_'_

Satoshi's eyes shot open, fully alert now, and he swiveled his head around quickly to stare his curse in the face, voice hoarse with shock, "_What_?" Krad turned his own gaze away, "You _told_ me it was temporary! That when the ring wore off—"

'_And it was, Satoshi-sama—can't you feel it? It's different now than when you were in my body.'_

Clamping down on another bout of yelling he wanted to unleash, Satoshi forced himself to acknowledge that the blonde was partially right—it _was_ different from the night before. He no longer had the unlimited access to Krad's mind like then, had to ask for knowledge he wanted, could have it denied him. "Well—I… Yeah… So what was it then? How was it part of the synch?"

Krad sighed, _'I've never done a synchronization like that with a host_…_Never a mutual one. It had always been_…_for me to gain access to their powers, or knowledge they'd forgotten but still kept locked in their minds_… _Last night was different, so I'm not all that surprised that the aftereffects are different as well.'_ He moved around to Satoshi's side, edging a bit closer to get a better look at the tattoo-like astral scars the wings had left behind. _'Even after the ring's effects had worn off_…_part of you still retained delicate ties to my powers—specifically, my ties to the Astral. It must have sensed you preparing to fight, and so it_…_it sent you what would most aid me in a fight: my wings.'_

Satoshi's eyes fell away, and he turned back to look at the tattoos covering his back now, "…Then what are these?"

'_Astral markers_…_physical evidence that you are a channel, that you've touched the Astral. They will fade in a few hours, and you'll never see them again.' _He paused and added, _'They appeared on me the first time I used Astral, when I was_…_created. My hands_…' He held them up and looked at them with a strange mixed expression of nostalgia and grief, _'It was horrible—I'd thought that something had gone horribly wrong_… _Stained with black blood I knew not to be mine or Dark's_…_I couldn't touch anything, couldn't wash it off, and nearly frightened that first Hikari child to death_…_'_

Turning away from the mirror, he regarded his curse, still a bit confused, "Your hands, though…that's different from me… Why is it on my _back_?"

'_The markers appear wherever you funnel the Astral—I had fired an astral energy sphere at Dark that time, so my hands were stained with the markings. You_…_you, a human, bent the Astral to your will in the form of my wings. So your markers are on your back.'_

Satoshi bent down to pick up the shirt he'd tossed aside a moment ago, hissing as the skin across his back stretched and pulled. He flung the garment into the clothes hamper and padded back into his room, not bothering to put anything else on

Krad stopped in the doorway, looking on as his host fumbled around in his closet for a pair of sleep pants, and softly spoke into the darkness, _'_…_I'm sorry, Satoshi-sama_…_'_

The boy didn't show any sign of hearing him except for returning from inside the closet, "And what are you sorry for this time?"

Frowning, the blonde continued, _'My powers_…_you used them_…_and they hurt you.'_ He paused and added, _'If I'd known something like this might happen, I never would have suggested the synchronization, or even using that ring in the first pla—'_

"Shut up, Krad." It wasn't a harsh order, more like Satoshi was simply getting tired of the apology. He pulled his upper half out of the closet again, a pair of thin pajama bottoms in his hands, and the blonde turned away, rustling clothes soon filling the silence. "If I hadn't wanted to do all that with you…I _wouldn't_ have. I've told you before you can't _force_ me to do anything, so stop babbling about how just because you suggested it, that everything that happened at school was your fault." The rustling stopped, and Krad turned back around, confronted with the Hikari boy's cold stare. "If you're trying to get me to forgive you—forget it." He flinched inwardly at the harshness conveyed in his voice, and added to soften the statement, "…You didn't do anything wrong, anyway."

'_But—!'_ Krad objected, _'That whole incident was because you were still tied into my powers!'_

Satoshi stormed over to the bed and plopped down, still glaring at his curse who stepped further into the room, "And if I hadn't been tied into your powers last night, I couldn't have done any of the stuff I did! Either way, in the end it was _my_ choice—_my_ fault. Using the Astral, using your body…it more than made up for nearly transforming at school…"

Krad frowned, brows furrowing in disapproval. _'_…_But it still hurt, didn't it?'_

Sliding down and pulling back the coverlet, Satoshi slowly maneuvered his bottom half under the covers, being sure not to let his back rub too harshly against the sheets.

"…I've felt it before."

Krad felt as if he'd just been drenched in a bucket of ice cold water, feeling the chilly tendrils of memories wrap themselves around his mind, reminding him just how different their relationship was now than it had been before—and just how easily it could snap back to the never-ending cycle of hate.

He felt another apology already perched on his lips, before his Tamer shot stormy blue eyes his way and continued, "I've felt it before—so I _know_ it hurts, I already do. I knew it when I used your body last night—I knew it even as you were suggesting it, I knew it even when Kosuke gave me that ring—I _knew_ it. And I didn't care, don't you see?

"_I_ chose to use that ring, _I_ chose to test your powers, without the solid knowledge that even that numbing spell would work, because I _wanted_ to!" His voice got a bit more frantic, and he clenched his fists in the bedsheets, "You—you trusted me with your body, when I could've done so much to hurt you! The synchronization, even—even then I could've hurt you without damage reflecting on me!

"The point is it was _my_ choice to use those powers and to take whatever consequences came with them—whether I knew about them or not. Those wings were _my_ fault, so just—stop your damn apologizing! I've done enough of it today for the both of us!" In a huff, he quickly slipped under the covers, biting his lip to the point of drawing blood to keep from crying out at the pain, eyes shut tight.

Krad could only stare down at the boy's back turned to him, frowning—he was more than a little fed up now. _'I can't do anything to please you, can I?'_ he snapped bitterly, _'You yell at me when I don't take responsibility and you yell at me when I do!'_

The back, of course, provided no response. _'_…_That Niwa boy shouldn't have pushed you so far anyway—it's his fault for getting you so angry in the first place.' _He paused again to see if he would be returned any sort of reply this time, waiting silently in the dark as the boy's breathing became more and more even.

After a few moments, though, his waiting was rewarded with a soft, muffled answer, "…For whose sake do you think I yelled at him…?"

Krad blinked a few times, quite confused. What was Satoshi-sama implying? _'But_…_well, the Wing Master_…_he was pestering you about last night_…_' _A pause as he tested a theory, _'Weren't you just angry that he was doing that again? After all, like you said—it was your choice to use my powers, so he had no business chiding you for it_…_right?'_

Satoshi lifted his head and propped himself up with his elbows behind him, staring incredulously at his curse, then rolled his eyes and slid back down onto the pillow, blushing violently. "_Idiot_…"

'…_Satoshi-sama?'_

"I'm tired. Just…go to sleep, Krad…forget it. And no more apologizing—you finally seem to have gotten it through your head that I _wanted_ to use that thing in the end, so…so I ap—appreciate that you didn't want to…to hurt me with it…" He swallowed a lump that was forming in his throat, "But the fun I had from using the ring outweighed the pain of my fight with Niwa."

A relieved smile spread across Krad's features, and he slowly faded from sight, plunging the already-dim room into darkness. However, he didn't miss the final words from Satoshi's lips:

"…And—even if I had the chance…I wouldn't have changed anything that happened…"

* * *

Satoshi took the opportunity the following morning, as it was a Sunday and thus not a school day, to catch up on all the sleep he'd missed since…forever.

Apparently whatever magic had worked its way into his body via Niwa Kosuke's ring had completely sapped his energy when it had forced wings upon his back, and the boy rose, bleary-eyed and yawning deeply, some time well into the afternoon—not of his own volition.

Fumbling around on the bedside table for a moment, he finally came across the phone, ringing shrilly, and raised it to his ear, eyes still blinking the sleep away. Clearing his throat and making every effort not to sound as if he'd just woken up, he spoke calmly, "This is Hiwatari," and waited for a response.

"Satoshi-kun," was the ever-neutral voice on the other end. Not falsely cheerful, not overly serious—Niwa Kosuke had a strange ability to completely mask his emotions to any listener, an ability Satoshi had once prided himself on being able to exhibit through his face. "…Did I wake you?"

Daring a glance at his clock—1:14 in the afternoon—Satoshi lied, "Of course not, Kosuke-sa—ah…Kosuke…" He suddenly remembered the man preferring he drop the honorific—quite a strange request from an elder to a child, but then, maybe he'd been out of Japan studying artworks for so long that he'd grown accustomed to being addressed in such a way. Satoshi fumbled around for some excuse, failed, and instead changed the subject, "Was there something I could help you with?" _'Please don't ask about yesterday_…_ Please don't ask about yesterday_…_'_ he silently prayed.

"Actually…there is. I was wondering if you and I might be able to talk." Satoshi closed his eyes slowly and cursed mentally. "If you've already got plans, then…"

It wasn't that Satoshi didn't _want_ to talk to Kosuke—far from it. The Niwa man, strangely enough, was the one he was most comfortable speaking with, in both Hikari _and_ Niwa clans. Absurd, as he wasn't even a legitimate member of either. He had an air about him, though, that drew one to confess all their problems to him, and he made one feel as if he could alleviate them all.

But he was already confused enough about the previous days events, and he really didn't want to discuss it, for then he would have to explain the business that led to it in the first place—his outing in Krad's body. He didn't need _another_ Niwa giving him grief about his relationship with his curse.

In the end, though, he prided himself on being a consummate gentleman, and acquiesced. "No—no, it's no trouble at all." Sighing softly, he added, "When would be good for you?"

Satoshi was just straightening his shirt and casting a final glance around the living room to be sure it was suitable for guests when there was a knock at the door. He hurried over to the door in socked feet and pulled it open to let Kosuke in. The Niwa man pardoned his intrusion and slipped off his shoes, following Satoshi into the living room area and taking the proffered seat on the couch with the boy on a seat diagonal from him.

Kosuke cast a glance around the room, frowning mentally at the state—it was almost…_too_ clean. So austere, cold, and empty, like a mirror reflecting its owner. He almost _preferred_ the messy state of his own son's room; it let him know that it was lived in, enjoyed. This place almost felt…like a prison. He shuddered internally; as if the Hikari child needed another prison outside his own mind.

A moment passed by in silence, until Kosuke finally decided to start up a conversation—it _had_ been he who'd planned this in the first place. "So…Satoshi-kun…how's—" He swallowed nervously, flying blindly, "—how's school been going lately? I understand you're taking on a few more tutoring charges, from what Daisuke sa—"

"I know you're here to talk about yesterday's incident," Satoshi interrupted quickly, staring down at the floor in shame, "And I've already apologized to you and your family for such an imposition. I realize Niwa-kun had no reason to help me when he did and for that I thank you all. But please don't beat around the bush—I…I don't like being patronized."

Kosuke blinked a few times at the boy, a bit surprised at such a forthright attitude. "Satoshi-kun, I didn't mean to—"

"Your question?" He couldn't help replacing Kosuke's concerned features with those of his son, and was growing increasingly frustrated at the intrusion upon his privacy.

The man frowned at him, "I didn't come here to patronize you—I don't know what your feelings towards my son may be now, that you are this hostile towards me, but I assure you my intention isn't to demean you."

Satoshi flushed, angry with himself now, and muttered a quick apology, "I—s-sorry, I just…"

Kosuke reached over and lay a hand gently on his shoulder, smiling warmly, "Think nothing of it. That's the reason I came over in the first place."

Sighing, the boy queried softly, "…You still want to talk about yesterday, though, don't you…?"

"You apologized, Satoshi-kun. And I heard from Daisuke the full details of what happened—that he and you had an argument, and that…that Krad objected to this and tried to manife—"

"He did not try to manifest!" the boy snapped, jumping to his feet, eyes flashing, "That was—that had nothing to do with him!" Kosuke sat back, taken by surprise at the outburst, and Satoshi apparently realized he'd been a bit forceful in his declaration. He quickly forced himself to sit back down and went back to staring at the floor. "Forgive my outburst… But that's not what happened… Niwa's making excuses for situations he doesn't understand again."

Smiling faintly, Kosuke prodded, "Then…why don't _you_ tell me what happened? Apparently I've been misinformed—though I'm sure Daisuke didn't mean it wrongly." Satoshi refrained from commenting, though he had a string of harsh retorts he longed to unleash. "What exactly happened yesterday?"

Surprisingly, Satoshi was now more at ease—_wanted_ to explain the events of the past couple of days in detail, just to make Kosuke understand exactly what was going on between himself, Krad, and Daisuke. Strange, though, that all it had taken to make him jump on the offensive had been the implication that his curse had played a part in the fiasco…

He shook his head to clear it of such compromising thoughts and plunged into an explanation. "It…started Friday evening. Krad asked me if I was getting bored or was angry with how he was handling Dark because I'd become quiet on advance notice nights, and I told him it was because I didn't have any reason to look over his shoulder all the time now because I tr—" A light blush tinted his cheeks, the source of which he couldn't trace, "—trusted him to keep our agreement—oh." He paused and looked up at Kosuke, "You don't know about the agreement, I suppose. That I would let him out to—"

"Actually I do," the man returned with a smile. "Daisuke was kind enough to vent the details to me some time back."

"Oh…" This threw Satoshi—just how much had Niwa spoken to Kosuke about? And did he have the _correct_ facts, or just the ones Niwa chose to divulge? Deciding to clarify the matter later, he continued. "Krad said he wanted…to repay my trust by giving me some of his own…and so he let me use his body for the night—" A brilliant tomato-red hue spilled across his cheeks at the innuendo, "I mean—! The ring! The ring you gave me so that he couldn't take over! I used _that_ to be in his bo—his _form_." His eyes fell away, "…He let me…"

A sigh, and he continued, gathering his thoughts. "He let me take over his form with the ring you gave me at the funeral…because he wanted me to understand what it felt like to be him. I saw no harm in it, so I agreed. But it was…difficult and time consuming to learn how to use his body, so I…we…" He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, wary of how best to explain the situation to Kosuke.

"…Don't tell me you…_synchronized_ with your curse?" Satoshi's eyes darted up to meet Kosuke's, confusion evident.

"How did you…?"

Kosuke hung his head low and sighed, "Satoshi-kun, do you have any _idea_ how dangerous that was! You two could have been bonded forever—and I don't mean as you are now. More—more intimately—through the very fibers that separate your minds!" He brought his hands over to clasp the boy's shoulders. "You could have _lost_ yourself! Surely…surely he knew that—why would he even _suggest_ such a thing!"

'_Of course I knew it, stupid human!' _Krad snapped, phasing into existence, though Kosuke could neither see nor hear him and thus gave no response. _'But I've been doing this for centuries and I fully understand the risks! I made Satoshi-sama aware of them as well, and—'_

"Shut _up_," Satoshi hissed under his breath, shooting a glare at the blonde standing in the middle of the room.

Kosuke misinterpreted the subject of the order, and blinked, concerned, before querying, "Excuse me?"

Shaking his head and waving him off, Satoshi apologized quickly, "Nothing—nothing. Just…he doesn't quite agree with your opinions on the danger of synchronization… He says that he knew the risks and informed me of them, so there was little that could be done to make it any safer…"

"And…_do_ you understand the risks?" A swift nod—oh he understood them _quite_ well, for he'd just come off the wrong end of what could go wrong when one partner retained ties to the other's powers. "Then…why would you agree to such a thing?" A pause, "…Did using my ring with him…mean that much to you?"

Satoshi balked, thoughts flitting around inside his head like mad, and Krad, too, stopped his mental ranting against the Niwa patriarch to stare at his host, not having really considered such a possibility. Had he, perhaps, pushed Satoshi into doing something without him fully understanding the risks? Despite the boy's constant reassurance that he knew what he was doing, Krad wasn't so sure now.

"I just…I understood the risk I was taking, despite what you may be thinking. I understood perfectly well that if anything went wrong, even the smallest deviation in carrying out the synch, my mind could have been irreparably reconfigured… I knew that I was allowing him access to my deepest thoughts, that it was a bond of trust, as I would be able to access his. And yet I…"

Why _had_ he wanted it so badly? Now that he considered it, he had taken a foolish, unnecessary risk that could have left him damaged beyond help. For what? A night flitting about the skies in the body of a curse he despised? If he hated Krad so much…why had he subjected himself to something that strengthened their bond even further?

"…I don't know why, Kosuke. I'm sorry. That's the best explanation I can give."

The man scowled, "…Is it that you don't know, or you don't want to admit the reason to yourself?" This wasn't what he'd planned on the ring being used for—he'd meant it to allow the poor boy a chance to not worry about his curse, a chance to experience _freedom_… He'd meant to shield Satoshi from Krad, not draw them closer!

"Please…" The begging tone snapped Kosuke from his thoughts, "…Please don't be Niwa." The head was still bowed, but the voice was ever plaintive, "Please don't be your son… I've already had this conversation with him once before… I don't want to have it again."

Kosuke flashed back to his conversation the day before with Daisuke, and of the argument he'd said they'd had. "Are you talking about…the fight you and Daisuke had?" Satoshi nodded slowly, eyes shut, sensing a headache rising. Kosuke sighed, "I'm sorry…I've interrupted you. Please, continue your telling."

Blue eyes slowly opened again, and he looked up in confusion, as if suddenly remembering that he'd had a tale to relate before they'd strayed off-topic. He nodded and resumed his explanation. "So we…we synchronized, and I learned how to use his body. Then I went out and just…played in it, I suppose is the best way to put it. Flew around, used his Astral, even fired one of the energy blasts he uses against Dark, blew up a statue…that was when Niwa saw me…

"He came up to me yesterday before class and tried to tell me that he'd seen Krad the night before, and that he wanted to make sure I knew, in case he'd been out without my knowledge…" He paused, now painfully aware of both Kosuke's _and_ Krad's gazes locked on him, "…And I got mad at him…"

"This part I've heard already…but Daisuke wouldn't tell me what exactly got you mad, and how exactly your curse's _wings_ figure into it all. Would you…?"

Satoshi's frown deepened, drawing deep lines in his face, and his thin eyebrows pulled together, "I told him…that it was me he saw the night before—me in Krad's body. That I had used a ring you gave me to take over his form, and he…he was furious that I had indulged in such a thing. Told me that I was letting my curse get more control over me, that I was giving in." He unconsciously clenched his fists in remembrance.

"The morning bell rang, and he had to sit down…but he came up to me again when the afternoon bell rang…and started ranting again because I'd let Krad project in the classroom and done nothing about it. I told him it was none of his business what I did with my own curse, but it wasn't good enough for him, and then he…he said…"

He paused here, unsure of whether or not he should go on—Kosuke didn't know of his confession to the boy…how would he react?

As if reading Satoshi's mind, the Niwa man slowly began, "…Daisuke…told me…about what you thought…of him as." Blue eyes shot up in question. "I know that you told my son you loved him."

"I don't," he snapped, too quickly for his own comfort, and blushed lightly, "That is I…don't know…anymore." He sighed and hung his head in frustration, "It all changed when he told me he didn't feel the same way…and I don't even know _why_ I told him—I was desperate! I _did_ love him—there was no way I couldn't! He was just too nice, too caring, too warm, too friendly—"

"Satoshi-kun…you know Daisuke's like that to almost anyone—"

"It wasn't _him_ though, it was me! I'd never been around anyone like that! I'm a _Hikari_!" His tone waxed desperate now; he'd never told anyone of these feelings, even hesitant to admit it to himself. "And I just wanted—_someone_! Niwa was…the closest thing I had then…and I didn't want him to leave me…"

"But you know he would never do such a thing… You were his friend!"

"I didn't _want_ a friend! I didn't need _anyone_! If he hadn't been that way, I wouldn't have fallen in love with him! I _had_ to tell him, and so…because of that…he completely changed. _I_ changed…even _Krad_ changed…

"And then yesterday…Niwa threw it all back at me. Told me that—that I'd said I loved him…but that he was starting to think I'd found someone else…" Kosuke flinched inwardly—that _had_ been harsh of his son. "And that…made me _furious_…that he would take something that meant so much to me and fling it back in my face…

"That's when it happened—the wings. I was so angry, I was all for starting a fight again, but before I could even throw a punch…they just—came out." He shot his gaze over to Kosuke, being sure to make it evident that—"It wasn't Krad, though! He had nothing to do with them, I know it. Whatever Niwa said about him was a lie! It didn't _feel_ like him. I know what it means to have him take control of my body… I know every sensation…because it's happened so often. But that's not what it was—it was _me_! _I_ made the wings manifest; it was…because of the synchronization."

Kosuke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the boy who'd drawn himself up, intent on getting his point across. "So…apparently Daisuke was mistaken." A nod. "Your curse had nothing to do with yesterday's incident, save in initiating the synchronization itself?" Another firm nod, and the man couldn't help cracking a tiny smile, noting, "…You seem awfully intent on defending Krad… It's quite a turnaround from when last we spoke."

For the second time during their meeting, Satoshi's cheeks burst into rosy hue, a blush spilling out over his entire face. He cast a flustered glance from Kosuke to Krad and back, furious with himself for displaying his emotions so plainly. Thankfully, his curse chose this point to dissolve into a hazy nothingness, retreating into his corner of Satoshi's mind and troubling him no further—though the boy didn't know it, he secretly was relishing Niwa Kosuke's realization and the reaction it brought about in his Tamer.

Setting his mouth into a firm frown, the boy ground out quickly, "It's just that…I'm still not happy with Niwa's sticking his nose into places he's neither wanted nor needed. He's my curse to deal with how I please, and I'll not have anyone making false accusations when _I_ was the one at fault in the first place."

Kosuke nodded his agreement on the outside, but inside he was quite disturbed. Something wasn't right here…there was a niggling thought playing in the back of his mind regarding the boy's reaction, seeing that blush darken his cheeks.

He knew Satoshi wasn't a social boy—being of such intellect as he was, a prodigy, he hadn't been able to adjust to life as a normal child. All children his age were years behind him in the academic department, further separating him from any friends. Too young physically to be accepted as an adult, too old mentally to be accepted as a child…

Such a state of solitude should never be allowed, especially not for a fourteen-year-old boy. It wasn't _natural_, wasn't conducive to a healthy, normal life. And so…he was frightened that the Hikari child was reaching out—for someone, something to hold on to. He'd aimed for Daisuke, and his son had retreated out of reach. And been replaced by…

By Krad? Had Satoshi actually, _unconsciously_, replaced Daisuke with the _curse_? He knew the boy would never admit it—probably hadn't even realized it. And Kosuke wasn't close enough with him to be sure, but from what he'd just heard… The Satoshi of now was _not_ the Satoshi of just over a month before at his father's funeral.

Perhaps he would test just _how _different this Satoshi was from then.

"So…" Kosuke stood and began wandering around the living room, running his gaze over the décor and startling Satoshi from his thoughts, "It seems you're getting along fine since your father's death…" The boy flinched, but Kosuke didn't see it.

Turning from the elder man, he mutely nodded and responded, "Y-yeah…fine. I go to the grave every now and then, tidy up."

Kosuke gave a tiny smile and paused in front of a picture frame on the wall of Satoshi receiving his badge on his first day of work—the boy had only really chosen to keep it after he'd grown somewhat closer to Saehara, thinking that not all memories from the station had been bad ones. "Have the police been giving you any trouble lately?" A pause, "You know, about the real murderer?"

At this, Krad phased into existence again, a deep frown painted on his delicate features and looking decidedly out of place. He seemed ready to deliver a thorough tongue-lashing to the Niwa man, but Satoshi stopped him before he even started, "Leave us; this doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Are you talking to him now?" Kosuke asked.

"Yes."

"Then on the contrary, I think this tangent has _everything_ to do with him."

"Fine. I still don't want him looming over my shoulder while we talk."

Kosuke frowned slightly, more from pity than from anger. He waited a moment, then pressed, "Is he gone now? Is it alright to talk?" A nod. "…I get the feeling that you want me to be frank with you, to treat you as an equal and not some child to be patronized."

"I would appreciate it."

"I'll accede. Now…" He sat back down on the couch, "You were saying?"

Satoshi ducked his head. "Saehara came by a couple of weeks ago, and we talked for a bit—they've placed the murder in the 'unsolved mysteries' file now…after I asked him to."

This got Kosuke's attention. "You _asked_ Inspector Saehara to? But—why would he comply with something like that?" He gave a rough laugh, "Now, I've come to expect his incompetence when it comes to Dark, but really, a murder case? Why on earth would he—"

"I…I explained that…it was in his best interest not to pursue the actual murderer." Kosuke paled, laughter dying away quickly, and Satoshi tried to make the man see logic. "It was just getting to be too much with all his questions, so I figured I'd try and, well, _intimidate_ him a little…"

"You didn't…tell him about Krad, did you?"

"Not that I _was_ him, if that's what you mean…I just implied that he…that he had a hand in the murder. And that if the police kept digging around in my past—which is just what Saehara had been doing—then my father's murderer might try something with them."

Kosuke rubbed his temples, sighing, "That's quite a lot of work to go through just to save him—Saehara could have subpoenaed you right then to give up any information on the murder."

"I _didn't_ do it to save him," the boy ground out firmly, "It was for my own safety as well. And what you just proposed was exactly what Saehara himself proposed. Until I hinted that this would simply facilitate his untimely demise." He gave a soft smile, "It seems…I had somehow earned his respect…and for some reason he decided to listen to me, to believe me." He neglected to add how good it had felt to be depended upon, admired for his work and insight…rather than for what lay locked beneath his skin.

Kosuke had to fight openly gawking at this boy before him…he _really_ had changed. This definitely wasn't the Hikari Satoshi who'd all but broken down in his arms at Hiwatari Kei's funeral a month-and-a-half before.

Satoshi, the Niwa man observed, had always seemed so cold, like his apartment: simple, very little decoration, no pretense, "what you see is what you get." But right now, he almost seemed as if he'd regressed to what one might have considered normal for a fourteen-year-old, like Daisuke—one who had social problems of a slightly smaller magnitude, who had difficulty making friends but kept those he _did_ have close, who needed _someone_ to latch on to…even if that someone was something that had hurt him in the past.

The boy's desire to be wanted and needed outweighed his desire to avoid pain, and Kosuke had to fight his paternal instinct to reach over right then and draw Satoshi into a hug.

Satoshi _needed_ this chance to be himself, just as a body needs food, air, water. Without it, he would surely shrivel up into that cold Hikari mold he'd been forced into his whole life.

Kosuke didn't approve of Krad as the new object of Satoshi's attentions, not by far. But then, it wasn't Kosuke Krad appeared to be courting.

Smiling back at the boy, he stood and bid his goodbyes. "Wha—you're leaving? Already?" Satoshi cried, then turned to the clock, realizing he still had work to do for the next day's history assignment. "You're done with whatever you wanted to talk about?" He'd actually started appreciating their conversation when it turned more to his feelings rather than situating on the murder itself.

"Not really," Kosuke admitted, "But I've bothered you long enough, and…I think I've learned enough."

"Oh…well, umm…goodbye then, I suppose." He walked the man out the door to the elevator and waved his farewell.

'_Nosy bastards, those Niwas. Every last one of them.'_

"Shut up."

* * *

It was now apparent to Krad that something had to be done.

If he didn't see to these Niwas constantly barging into his and his Tamer's relationship, then that _Emiko_ woman was bound to show up next, and he didn't think he'd be able to keep his word to Satoshi about not killing anymore if _that_ happened.

While Satoshi idled away the next few hours on his schoolwork, the blonde busied himself with this little problem. It seemed the only way to solve it was to confront it head on: he and Niwa Kosuke would need to have a little chat.

Satoshi posed something of a problem to this, though. If Krad calculated correctly, then their conversation would most likely touch on topics that the blonde felt his host didn't need to be privy to just yet. That meant he'd need to temporarily knock the boy out.

The following evening was the night of Dark's next target attempt, and though it pained Krad to give up the piece without a fight, he knew that it would be his best chance. Most of the Niwa household would be engrossed in the evening news, and Satoshi wouldn't give Krad's going out a passing thought, thinking he meant merely to confront Dark.

Satoshi wasn't much longer with his homework and soon toddled off to bed, praying silently that Niwa's spell really _had_ worked, and he wouldn't be greeted with stares and gasps the next day as everyone recalled the wing incident.

When his host finally nodded off, Krad set to work conjuring up a notice to send to Kosuke, adding a dash of tracer magic to be sure that Kosuke and Kosuke _only_ received the message. In a flash of gold the note zipped off into the night, instructing the man to meet Krad the next evening at Halcyon's Point, the cliff overlooking the Temple of Neptune that lay sunken beneath the Azumano shore-waters.

* * *

With Satoshi effectively silenced by a sleep-spell the next night, Krad stood like a glowing marble statue on the cape staring out into the cold night waters far below the cliff's edge, listening contently to the soft hissing as the waters rolled in and crashed loudly against the earth, sending spouts of spray high into the air. He would most certainly receive a loud berating lecture in the morning and be demanded that he explain what exactly went on while his host was knocked out—as well as _why_ he'd been knocked out—but Krad was beyond caring for the moment. He was meeting someone.

"I see that deranged wife of yours let you out of your cage long enough to come visit, did she? How elaborate a lie did you have to weave?"

The dark haired Niwa man frowned at the characterization of his wife. "Emiko-san and Otousan always watch Dark's jobs on the news…I doubt they even realize I'm out…"

Shrugging his shoulders, Krad couldn't complain—however this had happened, they were here, standing just back from the edge of a cliff on the northern border of the Azumano district, "chatting."

"Well?" Kosuke pressed after a moment of silence when the blonde turned away from him to stare back out over the water. He held up a slip of paper. "You're the one who sent this, right? What do you want? It's rude to keep guests waiting, you know."

A thin smile winding its way over his lips, Krad twisted around until he was facing Kosuke properly. "How right you are, Niwa Kosuke-san." He gave a low bow in mock apology. Crossing his arms as he pulled back up, he slipped into a mild explanation.

"I called you here because…it seemed about time we talk." Kosuke raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You've been getting awfully…'amicable'…with Satoshi-sama lately, and this is something of both a bother and worry to me. I'm quite curious as to why a _Niwa_ would be getting involved in my Satoshi-sama's personal affairs, and I'm _especially_ interested in learning why you care so much about mine and his relationship."

If it was possible, he hardened his glare at the man. "You—you aren't even a real Niwa. Just an assimilated parent—one of the lucky fools, or should I say _un_lucky in your case, who manages to form a union with a Niwa or Hikari, taking their name and furthering the lines. None of your predecessors have been as involved in our affairs as you—Satoshi-sama's own father left before he was even born, forgotten.

"So I ask again, what is it you want with my Tamer? Are you perhaps thinking that by winning his favor you can single-handedly bring an end to this feud? A stupid human goal, to be sure—but quite characteristic of a Niwa."

"You think it's strange that I'm staying with the family I love?"

Krad scoffed loudly, "You're an _outsider_. An interloper. You have no place in our affairs. You can't sympathize, and you can't help—not the Niwas _or_ Hikaris. Do you _know_ how much pain it used to bring Satoshi-sama, knowing that his real father left him?"

Unable to bite back the snappy return, Kosuke retorted sharply, "As much pain as when his foster father was _taken_ from him?"

The words died away when Krad didn't immediately reply, boring holes into the man's skull with his golden gaze. As a bloodline curse, he had no concept of family, no concept of siblings, or parents, or _any_ relationship beyond host/curse. And his past experiences through previous tamers had taught him nothing about loving fathers or mothers: only the time-honored yet all-too-painful tradition of shipping sons off to be "educated".

Niwa Kosuke…confused him.

"I don't like you, human—" he drawled.

The man was quick to return, "Then the feeling is mutual."

"—and let me inform you that the only reason you are even still _alive_ is because I've promised Satoshi-sama that I would not harm him anymore if I could help it…I'm under the impression that your death might cause him pain, so count your blessings."

Kosuke blinked a few times in rapid succession. Krad had…promised something? A promise was not lightly taken in either family, this much he understood. It was as binding as a written contract in the Niwa household, and he would put money on it being as important a concept in the Hikari clan as well, harkening back to days of chivalry and such when a man's word was his bond.

And this thing, this curse had…promised his own host—that he wouldn't hurt him anymore?

"What do you mean…promised? When—_why_?"

Krad sighed and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Humans were so impatient at times. Turning his eyes away, he slipped into a swift recount of the gravesite personal oath he'd taken as he'd watched his Satoshi-sama. "He did for me what no Tamer before had done—cared about my views, how I saw the world and interacted with it, so…so I did for him what I'd done for no other Tamer—took a binding oath that if I could help it in any way, I would do nothing more that I knew would harm him." He paused, and elaborated slightly. "I no longer take his body by force to chase after Dark, I will never kill should he not wish it, and…I try with all my will…to be whatever he might want me to be."

So this—this was _Krad_? The Krad he'd heard about for years from Emiko-san and her father? Krad of the Hikari, the dreaded golden demon of the ice hunters? It looked as if Kosuke was going to have to slightly modify his view of this creature—no, this being, this man. The curse was not a _thing_. He was sentient, with…feelings? Was that even possible, for Krad?

Kosuke liked to think he was a good judge of character, that he could tell when someone was lying—and that entire speech Krad had just delivered, had it flowed forth from the skilled lips of most any other living being, the Niwa father would have most likely taken it for truth without a second thought.

It was merely the knowledge that with the Hikari clan, _nothing_ could be taken at face value. Least of all their famed curse. Could he truly be capable of changing his ways, going counter to his methodology of three hundred years—and not just on a whim but for his own _host_? Something…didn't fit here. But was it because it was wrong, or because he was simply trying to fit Krad into the Niwa molded mindset?

He stared at the blonde before him, thoughts wandering back to his conversation with the Hikari boy a few days prior, and settled upon Satoshi's rendition of what he'd gone through since the funeral: his new tutoring role, the unlikely mutual agreement with his curse, painting, horrifying cooking experiences, all culminating…in the unique use he'd put Kosuke's gift to by taking over the curse's own body and flitting through the Azumano night skies like a child with a new toy (according to Dark and Daisuke, that is).

But…even the way Satoshi had spoken of the experiences, it was strange…his eyes were brighter, more—more _childish_ he'd dare say, but only in the sense that Satoshi _was_ a child. Something had shifted between Satoshi and his curse, and Kosuke, frustrated, couldn't put his finger on what it was—and if it was good…or bad.

So he stopped trying and put it to the being himself:

"Why are you doing all this for him, Krad?"

In any other situation, the Niwa man might have actually laughed at the almost deer-in-headlights look that plastered itself across the Hikari curse's slender features, and he silently cheered in childish glee as that same curse actually faltered for words.

Krad was a wreck inside with the question addressed to him now. "Why?" the man called Kosuke asked him, and Krad could only stutter inelegantly. Why _was_ he doing all this?

"Because…be—because…" Because…why? Because Satoshi-sama was his host? Because he was the last of his precious Hikaris? He swallowed hard and steadied his voice: "Because I want to."

This, sadly, was not enough to satisfy Kosuke. "But _why_? Why do you _want_ to? Is it personal pleasure, or some sort of twisted altruism? Can you not tell?"

"Why do _you_ care so much, human?" Krad got on the defensive and narrowed his eyes. "What business do you have, poking in the affairs of divine beings?"

"The 'divine beings' poked in _my_ affairs first, Krad." The father frowned, waxing nostalgic, "All I did was fall in love…I never asked that this be brought upon my child."

Pausing a moment to digest the excuse, Krad almost smiled at the familiarity of the lament. "…You sound like Satoshi-sama…"

Dark eyes shot back to the blonde, "Do I? And you would know that…how?"

Krad bristled defensively. "Because I'm always with him—always! Always listening, always there for him—" He smirked, "Tell me, were you always there for _your_ child, Niwa Kosuke?"

As if the words had actually sunken needle-like teeth into his skin, Kosuke cringed inward a bit, but quickly recovered. "No…I wasn't…but at least I always _cared_ for him—for his well being, at least I always worked for his own good, above my own."

"And you think I don't care?" came the return, as if on instinct.

"You don't." Kosuke didn't miss a harsh beat, continuing to pelt the Hikari with everything he had. "I talked to him, you know—the other day. And he was…different…than from the last time we'd spoken. At his father's funeral. Caring…_murder_ is all you care about. It's your entire reason for existing, and it's all that occupies your thoughts. Three hundred years of a bloodbath, Krad…_three hundred years_."

Fighting rolling his eyes at the melodrama, Krad drawled lazily, "If that's your pathetic attempt to make me regret killing Hiwatari, you've _failed_. I only regret…that it pained Satoshi-sama."

Kosuke tried another angle. "Then you claim that in these past, what—months?—you've begun to care for that boy? For these months, you've actually held affection for him? Is that the best you can do to throw me off?" He laughed dryly, completely devoid of mirth. "That the Hikaris have stooped so low…Wouldn't Rio-san be rolling over in her grave right now?"

Krad simply glared more harshly, and Kosuke continued, "Since Satoshi-kun has been deprived of his own father figure, I have taken it upon myself to step in an watch over him. To approve or disapprove of those he consorts with—and I do _not_ approve of you, Hikari Krad. I'm disinclined to believe that Satoshi-kun is being led down a path that he will later be thankful he followed—"

"Then what a pity that it doesn't _matter_ if you approve or not. Higher powers than the Hikari or Niwa clans have appointed that he and I should be one and the same." He now echoed the father's earlier wry laugh.

"Can you stop destiny, Niwa Kosuke? Can you go against the gods, _human_?…I suppose, technically, you could—I would love to see you try. But, then again…I'd also love to see you as a corpse."

"Yes, of course," Kosuke corroborated, shaking his brown head, "And not have dirtied your own hands. You _would_ love that. Then be, once again, all your precious 'Satoshi-sama' had left to turn to." He sneered in a very un-Kosuke-like manner, "You've led him to believe you've changed, but you _haven't_. Once a filthy pretentious ice hunter, _always_ one. Once a deserter, always a deserter. At least I will be there for him, and he knows that."

"Oh, but I _have_ changed," Krad hissed, leaning close to almost whisper the words into his left ear. "You see…at one point in time, I would have killed you without a second thought…So explain to me why you're still babbling here…If I haven't changed, as you say."

Kosuke stepped back and held up his hands in a gesture likened to giving up, "Fine then, I concede—you _have_ changed…But again I ask _why_? Why did the great thief-killer, that divine vision of the grandest line of artists since the Renaissance masters…why did perfection in mind, body and purpose change?" He cocked his head, "If you truly were perfect…then change was unnecessary, right?"

Again, Krad faltered, unbalanced by the query. "I—because…because Satoshi-sama wished it—"

"And since when have you ever listened to anything he's asked?—You've still not answered the question, Krad: _why_?"

This, though, was about as far as the blonde was willing to let himself be pushed, "_HUMAN_!" he snapped back loudly, silencing a group of nightbirds who'd been calling back and forth across the meadow behind them. He dropped his voice low again, "You overstep your lines—know your _place_, father of thieves."

And almost unintentionally, Kosuke actually _did_ take a step back—heart thumping at a slightly faster rate now than just a moment ago. He wasn't stupid—but actually quite clever. He understood well enough what Krad was: that he really _could_ kill him without a second thought, without fear of punishment or any earthly consequence.

Somehow, though, he pushed these thoughts aside and summoned a steady voice to reply, "I step where I need in order to protect those dear to me: and Satoshi-kun is like my own son."

"A Hikari…like a _Niwa_?" Krad laughed, though doing nothing to dissipate the tension hanging between the two men, "Ridiculous—I have heard nobler words than those before, and trust me: they do not affect my conscience in any way."

"Is that to imply that you actually _have_ a conscience?"

Krad effectively ignored him and continued on, stroking his chin in thought. "A Hikari as your own child, your _son_…Yes, you would like that, wouldn't you? Niwas are like crows—filthy black mongrel-like crows. They cannot resist the allure of the beautiful."

"I don't care for him because he's a _Hikari_, can't you understand that?" This was getting frustrating, "I care for him because—because he's Satoshi-kun, because he's a living being, a human who _needs_ to be cared for!"

"Satoshi-sama does not need your 'caring'! In fact he needs _nothing_ from a Niwa. He has _me_—he's _happy_ that way, and I _do_ care, Niwa Kosuke!" By the end of the statement he was yelling again, and his eyes steadily fell away to the ground, tired of glaring so much.

"I…I know his heart of hearts—I see into his mind and soul because it is my own. And I know what he fears, what he dreads…the loneliness…of being…of being bound to me…"

Kosuke's gaze locked onto the blond crown which hung low now, and could almost see a painted mask fall away, revealing a being who was old and tired and wanted so badly…for _something_…

"He hates me, you know…" A pause, "He hates that he's a Hikari, that I came to him…he'd rather die than keep it up…

"He hates me…and I _hate_ that he hates me…because it hurts so much…"

He craned his neck upwards to looks into Kosuke's sympathetic brown eyes, "But…I didn't care, for the longest time, I didn't…you pegged me correctly, but now…" He shook his head in frustration, golden mane swishing back and forth, "You keep asking me 'why, why' why do I care—and I don't _know_ why! I just—_do_!

"…Wouldn't you hate it, if your Daisuke hated you?" Kosuke drew in a sharp breath, "Wouldn't it rip you apart from the inside if _every_ time he looked at you, it was with rage and anger and that he always _always_ wished you'd just _die_ and leave him alone?

"That if he could touch you, he _would_ hurt you…but by simply not being able to, he hurts you even more than any strike ever could…?

"Wouldn't you _hate _it…if he _couldn't_ love you? If he was…_dead_…inside? If he killed his heart…because he feared _you_? If your beloved feared you, Kosuke…

"If they shrank from your presence…If your every kindness was greeted with suspicion and mistrust, never a moment of faith… If you couldn't look into their eyes for the terror you'd meet staring back…

"If you knew they shrank from other people, that they denied themselves other people…because of _you_…

"If all you ever heard were words laced with poison, so that they ate away at your soul bit by bit…but you didn't care, just to be able to hear them…?

"If they would not allow themselves to love because of you, and if all you ever wanted was some of that love for yourself…

"If you had to live _every single day_ with only that base hatred pounding into you _every waking moment_…

"If they would end their own precious life…just to be free from _you_…

"…Would you not do _anything_ to change it? Would you not change _yourself_? Become perfect, or imperfect , or ugly, or beautiful, or Hikari, or Niwa—just so that they would, once, _smile_ at you…?"

A heaving sigh, "…I would, Niwa. For Satoshi-sama…I would do anything…Even die."

His head dropped again as before, "You want him to be happy…then that makes two of us, Niwa…But you think I cannot help him—who are you to deny me the chance to even _try_?" He clenched a fist tightly. "The gods have allotted me long life…immortality I dare say…and all this time I'd spent _squandering_ it…" His lips curved into a faint, sad smile.

"Yet now…I would not care if they struck me down this instant—right here…if I could tell him… If he would see me…" His golden voice, so normally steady and unchanging, broke. "Just…_once_…

"I have no right to ask such a thing…I know…But I—I don't care…" His eyes slid shut, "May his radiant face be the last thing I see…before Hell burns away my sight… May he live on, and be happy…

"I am old, I have seen so much of human life, yet…in these past few months…it's as if I've been reborn. I had only been eating the crumbs, had only been watching the violin—and now I can taste the wine, can hear the symphony! Satoshi-sama is…

"He is young, Niwa Kosuke…only a boy…as I said, I am old… If I die…let me die. Let him live… Let him love… Let him…" He choked on the words, leaving them lodged in his throat before finally forcing them over his lips, "…_forget me_…

"I know…I know he wants to, but…I'm too selfish to let him on my own…If that's what he needs, let him…let him be…"

Further words failed him, and his knees trembled, threatening to give way, but pure Hikari pride would not allow him to prove himself any weaker before a Niwa.

"Krad, you…" Kosuke was absolutely thunderstuck by the outpouring of emotion, eyes wide and disbelieving, "You feel…"

The blonde gathered himself, then turned and began walking away slowly, completely emotionally burned out from the entire ordeal. "No words…express the depth of this emotion, _human_…"

He had gotten barely a few steps into the clearing inland from the cliff's edge, though, when Kosuke's voice carried to his ears.

"…There is one."

The immaculate white boots stopped dead in their tracks, masking the shaking legs, trembling in trepidation and exhaustion. But much as he mentally willed the word to remain forever perched on the Niwa father's lips, he could do nothing—not with all his astral power—to stop it from flitting to his ear like one of the tiny eveningbirds in the trees.

"_Love_."

Love…Krad knew that word…

"You love him, Krad."

…_Damn know-it-all Niwas_.

* * *

_Author's Notes_: Sincerest apologies for the late update, but was being stupid with their downtime. As compensation, this chapter's extra long, so enjoy! Next week: Fun with languages as Daisuke proves Dark right in his characterization as "The nosiest Niwa he's ever had the pleasure of cursing." 


	15. Mirror, Mirror

_Galatea_

_Fifteenth Movement: Mirror, Mirror_

"The greatest foes, and whom we must chiefly combat, are within."

_Miguel De Cervantes _

* * *

"Preheat oven to 375 degrees…" Turn—click 

"Boil two and two-thirds cups of water…"

Rinse—set—click 

"Remove bay leaves from refrigerator and rinse in colander under warm water…what the hell's a '_colander_'?"

Hiwatari Satoshi sighed loudly and slumped his shoulders, fighting back the urge to bang his head sharply on the countertop in defeat—what was he _doing_ anyway?

Chasing phantom thieves across rooftops at midnight he could do, sitting for hours explaining integral calculus to children his age and younger he could do, even pulling an image from nothingness and letting it spill onto a blank canvas—he could do that too! But…

Cooking was something he could not.

He flipped forward and back a few pages in the recipe book pilfered from Niwa Emiko's bookshelf by her husband ("You look like you could use a good meal, Satoshi-kun," Kosuke had mentioned in a phone conversation a few days prior), searching seemingly in vain for some clue as to what to do next. For all the energy he was wasting preparing this meal, he could have just gone out and bought a dinner at a nice restaurant—damn Niwas with their persuasive ways (never mind that Kosuke technically wasn't really a Niwa).

'_You need to rinse those leaves off before you boil them, Satoshi-sama.'_

Letting an annoyed grunt pass over his lips, the boy retorted sharply to the voice in his head, "I can read instructions, Krad, I just…" He rubbed his face, "Just, go back to sleep or whatever. I can handle this."

'_Alright, alright_…_'_ the voice conceded, and faded away, but before disappearing back into the recesses of his mind, it remarked with a final mental smirk, _'By the way—the colander's inside the cabinets to the right of the sink, it's just a sieve.'_

Reluctant to accept advice from the blonde, Satoshi wandered red-faced across the kitchen to the cabinet and flung open the doors, glaring daggers at the "colander". "…Then why don't they just call it a _sieve_ and be done with it?"

Another five minutes passed as he checked and rechecked the cookbook, following the directions to the letter, with nary a missed step, now past the major hurdle of determining what exactly a "colander" was.

The dinner he was preparing was supposed to be adequate for a family of four, so to cut down the portions he'd had to quarter every ingredient—but there still seemed to be no moment to rest in the preparations. One second he was grilling fish on a small portable grill he kept by the stove, the next he was setting the rice-cooker to steam, and the next he was seasoning a pot of soup—or trying to, at least.

"Why—won't it—come out—clog—_CRAP_!" The salt shaker he'd been vigorously shaking over the simmering little pot, which he'd had trouble getting to come out, now poured forth like a river, depositing all its contents into what _had_ been one course of Satoshi's meal for the evening. It was no wonder he didn't cook more often—not only was he bad at it, but it certainly didn't seem worth all that effort either.

'_Satoshi-sama_…_'_ The voice was back again, now with a note of pity tingeing it—which was even worse than before, _'Really, why on earth would you have added salt to the curry anyway? The seasoning it comes with is more than enough already!'_ He could almost _see_ Krad standing there beside him shaking his head at the horrible mess he'd just made of the meal.

Frowning at the mess, he reached forward and turned the burner off, snatching up the handle of the pot with an angry grunt, and went to toss the mess into the sink, but he'd forgotten one very important thing.

"Sh—_kuso_!" The hot metal pot dropped to the floor with a loud clang, sending steaming liquid everywhere, and Satoshi cradled his burned hand to his chest, blowing furiously onto it to soothe the wound. After a moment's recovery, he wrapped his hand in a towel and picked up the pot again, tossing it violently into the sink and running water into it to let it soak while he cleaned up the rest of the spilled soup.

Two dirty towels and one wet sponge later, he'd finished—only to look up in alarm and sniff the air anxiously. "The fish!" Springing to his feet he tossed the sponge into the sink along with the pot and shot over to the smoking little grill—and his lovely blackened fish, now slightly crunchier than they were meant to be upon being consumed.

Hanging his head in defeat, he muttered as he wandered into the living room, "A decent meal is overrated anyway…" He'd just give the book back to Niwa the next day at school—everything else was too difficult for him to even _attempt_, and he'd made a complete disaster of this experience.

'_Giving up already?'_

"I'm not hungry anymore," he lied roughly, and plopped down onto the couch in his loose pants and shirt, lounging to take up nearly the full length. "I'll eat later…"

'_It seems like such a waste, you know—at least the rice came out decently.'_

"Please, your sarcasm truly wounds me," he muttered flatly in reply, and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a headache starting in the front of his skull. He would just sit here for a while, it was quiet, and the throbbing would subside soon…

A loud deep gurgle interrupted his thoughts, though, and his blue eyes shot open, a red flush creeping across his cheeks.

_'Oh, not hungry, you say?'_

"I'm _fine_…I said I'd get something later—" But the rest of his sentence was abruptly cut short as an inner force gripped cold tendrils of energy around his consciousness and completely overpowered him. He cried out—more from surprise and shock than from pain—which blinded him from making any sort of attempt to fight back that which he knew was futile to fight back, curling into a fetal position as he writhed helpless on the couch.

And indeed, only a moment later, long blonde hair pooled onto the floor and Krad sighed softly, taking in the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows playing across the bare skin of his arms and upper chest. "That was easier than I'd expected—are you sure you're feeling well, Satoshi-sama?" His voice had a light air to it that came off as blatantly patronizing, and he did well to close his thoughts off to the flood of expletives that followed this "innocent" question.

'_Why do you always do this? The least you could do is ask once in a while! It's my body—'_

Krad pushed himself up into a sitting position and paused a moment, gauging the suggestion, then queried, "…Would you have let me come out, even if I'd asked?"

There was no pause in the response, though: _'Hell no.'_

Smiling brightly, Krad continued, "Then there is your reasoning behind my actions. You wouldn't let me manifest even if I asked nicely—"

'_How would you know? You never have asked nicely!'_

Sighing a bit less contentedly this time, Krad stood up fully and clenched his left and right fists, as if getting the feel for the body. "Fine then, let me ask—"

_'What's the use when you've already taken it?' _

"…Very well, I'll keep that in mind for next time." Inside Krad's head, Satoshi mentally groaned at the thought of "next time". "For now…let's do something about this kitchen dilemma you seem to have steeped yourself in."

'…_Kitchen_…_?'_

"Yes, Satoshi-sama," Krad retorted as he strode into the room and surveyed the mess, "You know, the place where humans cook food they usually intend to eat, and not throw about, burn, and otherwise render inedible."

_'Hey! It wasn't my fault I had no idea what that—that colander thing was! And I still have no idea how you even knew—' _

"Cooking _is_ just another art form, you know—I should think you'd be aware of that by now. In fact, if I may be so bold, I would conjecture it's something I've quite a knack for. Now why don't you just sit down and shut up and let me prepare your meal?" And without another word, he went to work in a flurry of fingers, food, and forks.

The fish he'd burned was swiftly tossed, and another few fillets were thrown onto the small grill, while almost simultaneously the blonde filled another pot with water and set it to boil, tossing in small amounts of various spices Satoshi hadn't even known he'd had in the back of his pantry. The rice-cooker dinged a moment later, and the boy's head was whirling at the remarkable ease with which his curse moved about the kitchen, with nary a moment's rest.

Rice, fish, soup, vegetables, tea—the simple dinner he himself hadn't been able to even start…was finished in a mere fifteen minutes. He wasted no time in setting the table immaculately before plopping into a chair in front of a tastefully loaded plate, crossing his arms, and releasing his hold over the body to allow Satoshi's own consciousness to resurface in control.

'_Itadakimasu_, _Satoshi-sama_…_I hope you enjoy it.'_

Staring down at the plate before him with a deer-in-headlights expression, it suddenly dawned that Krad's whole purpose for manifesting forcefully was to prepare the meal for his host, since he knew full well the boy would never have let him do it willingly. It would have been a sting against his pride, and embarrassing to boot.

The red blush which melted over his cheeks with this realization certainly attested to that. Krad had…done this for him…just because he couldn't do it himself, hadn't even been asked, had simply taken it upon himself to care for his host—

_No_—no no, not _care_, Satoshi shook his head…he was just—just making the food because the boy needed to eat, or Krad himself would suffer, that was all, that…that's all it was… Why, then, was it so difficult to convince himself of that?

'…_Satoshi-sama?'_ a voice queried, a light tinge of worry staining it, _'_…_Are you not going to eat it? It's going to get cold—'_

"I'm eating, I'm eating—just leave me to it in peace, will you?"

A mental smile flashed in his mind, and Krad ceded control to the boy, fading into a far corner to rest.

Raising a spoon to his lips, he took a tentative sip, as if half-expecting it to be poisoned even though he'd seen every ingredient that went in (but who knew about some of those weird spices?). Quite to the contrary, the soup was _delicious_! Upon tasting the fish and vegetables as well, he discovered that he'd actually been _very_ hungry—and the meal was just the right thing, perfectly seasoned and prepared by his curse.

Hmm…perhaps he'd have to have Krad cook for him more often…

* * *

"Here."

Niwa Daisuke blinked, confused, staring down at the book proffered him by Satoshi. It was quite thick and had a shiny red cover displaying a sumptuous feast—meats, vegetables, noodles, a steaming pot of rice, anything ones gustatory imagination might be able to concoct. Unsure of what to make of the Hikari boy's strange gift, Daisuke hesitantly took it, eyeing his classmate warily.

"I'm returning it. Your father let me borrow it." Ah, well that made a bit more sense now. But, when had his father…?

"My father?" he voiced his mental question, "When did you meet with him? And—" He stared down at the cookbook, idly flipping through it, "—I thought…you couldn't cook, Hiwatari-kun. You always did terribly in Kaseda-sensei's home-ec class…"

Declining to look the boy in the eye, Satoshi murmured, "I…I can't… It wasn't me…who cooked…"

"Eh?" Daisuke looked up again, "Then, who—" Realization washed over his face, tainting it, "—you _didn't_… Please tell me you didn't let _him_…"

Satoshi was most definitely _not_ in the mood to discuss the situation with Niwa, and mentally kicked himself for letting the bit of information slip. "It's no business of yours; it was just a meal." He didn't flinch even as Daisuke's glare hardened, frown deepening. "Tell your father that it was appreciated—I'm going home now."

"That's right!" the redhead hissed after his retreating form, just loud enough to make sure Satoshi heard, "Just go on home—I'm sure he'd be more than happy for some more time alone." When the Hikari boy didn't even slow, he waxed desperate, "Can't you—can't you even _see_ what you've become? What he's _done_ to you? _Please_…Hiwatari-kun!"

_Wait_…

Daisuke froze, pleas falling silent from his lips as Satoshi disappeared around a corner.

What if…he _couldn't_ see? What if that was exactly the problem! All this time, Daisuke had been hounding him relentlessly, not even considering that it wasn't Satoshi's problem, but rather something that couldn't be helped at all!

Maybe this was just too big for the poor Hikari boy to handle, to grasp! He actually _couldn't_ see how far he'd fallen, how much he'd come to trust his curse. Maybe…if he heard it from someone else…

Daisuke shook his head—Satoshi was gone now, and he sank onto a bench underneath a tree in the schoolyard. There was no one else that Satoshi would trust enough or believe. He wasn't scoring any points on the "good friend" chart in Hiwatari-kun's eyes, and his father was most likely trying his best to be sure Hiwatari-kun stayed on the straight and narrow—_'Well,'_ he thought with a blush, _'Maybe not straight_…_'_—but who knew how successful that had been. Apparently not very, if Krad was now cooking meals for his host. What was next? Should he expect a wedding invitation in the next few days?

There had to be _some_ way to reveal Krad's true nature, _some_ way to get Hiwatari-kun back to the Hiwatari-kun he used to be before their relationship fell apart.

_Some_ way… Daisuke laughed softly—it seemed at this point that nothing short of some miracle would mend their friendship.

_Wait_—a miracle…or _magic_!

A sly grin spread over his features. "…Sometimes…I think I don't mind being a Niwa."

From inside his own head, he heard a deep mental voice pout, _'Only sometimes?'_

* * *

'_Na, Daisuke_…_' _Dark began tentatively from the back of the mind of his host, who was studiously scanning the shelves in the Niwa basement, _'I dunno if this is such a good idea_…_'_

"There's a lot of stuff _you_ do that I don't think is such a bright idea, but has that ever stopped you before?" Dark wouldn't admit it, but the boy had a point. "I think we've already had a talk about who's the host in this relationship and who's the curse. So if I ask you to help me, you'll do it, right?" Daisuke stopped, one hand resting on a thick tome, waiting for Dark to project. When the thief did so, Daisuke prodded him again, "_Well_? I can't very well find a spell like this on my own, so will you help?"

Dark crossed his arms, still reluctant, but couldn't help smiling at the stubbornly expectant gaze his host was gracing him with, and sighed, _'Fine—but I still say it's a bad idea.'_

"I heard you the first few times you told me—now come on. Give me some suggestions; I wanna do this _tonight_. The sooner I do something about this, the better."

Sighing, Dark asked, _'I did mention that you were a nosy brat, right?'_

He really didn't want his host getting involved in this any more than he already was, but Dark did feel he had a duty to do as he was asked, and reluctantly suggested a few books to look through, not even sure of what they were looking for himself. He knew, though, that if he let the boy go about this on his own, he'd either fail miserably or hurt himself by miscasting a spell.

It wasn't that he didn't want to meddle in Hiwatari's and Krad's relationship, but more that he didn't feel it was his place. He'd already made a pithy mentioning of the subtle agreement that had existed between himself and Krad in regards to their hosts and any relationships (platonic or otherwise) they engaged in with the boys. Relationships _outside_ the host/curse setting were fair game, though, as had been proven time and time again, at least once an incarnation whenever the two curses happened to manifest at the same time.

Daisuke wasn't, Dark urged himself, against the idea of such a relationship between a Tamer and Tamed…it was simply that this was _Krad_ and his host. Not…

He gave himself a mental slap and suddenly registered that Daisuke had been calling him for a few minutes now. "_Dark_! Are you even listening?"

'_Ah—yeah_… _Sorry for spacing out_…_'_ The redhead's frown stayed but softened a bit, and he turned back to the book he had open on his lap.

"How does this one sound?" Pointing out a line, he began reading, "_Potio Vetita Odii Aeterni_—'The Forbidden Draught of Eternal Hatred'…" His gaze was bright and hopeful as he turned to look up at his curse, awaiting his judgment. "Well? That sounds like it would work well, don't you think? I'll admit the name's a little clichéd, but…"

Dark raised an eyebrow and bent forward to look over the boy's shoulder. _'_…_Dai, did you even read the disclaimer on this thing?'_

The boy blinked, "Disclaimer?" He turned back to the book and frowned, searching the page, "It's a _spell_—why would it have a _disclaimer_?"

Heaving a mental sigh, the thief informed him, _'All these book are ones the Niwa clan saved from the Cultural Revolution—no, from revolutions even before that!'_ He stretched an arm out, encompassing the room, _'Exorcisms, Dark Magic, Summonings, Banishments—Sealings even! I'd bet every Hikari treasure in our trove that there's a book stashed in that shelf for just about any taboo magic you might want to work.' _He paused and hardened his gaze, staring into his Tamer's eyes, _'Get it, Daisuke? Forbidden. There's a reason it's called that!'_

Apparently Daisuke didn't see how this applied to the spell he'd just suggested, "But, I don't underst—"

'_You can't mess with emotions as strong as love and hate! That's why Love Potions have been illegal for so long. Hate Potions never got the amount of glory Love Potions did, but they're just as bad and just as deadly. To force someone to hate someone else unconditionally is tampering with the soul—humans can't take emotions that pure. You never love someone with all your being, and you never hate them that way either—it'll kill you. Using that kind of spell_…_is the same as sentencing the receiver to death.'_

Daisuke paled, vision drifting out of focus as he contemplated the potential consequences of the spell he'd suggested—simply because he hadn't researched it enough and just jumped at the title, assuming it'd be fine. "I…I didn't know that…" he answered lamely, shutting the book quickly and tossing it to the side. Dark's frown remained firmly set on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to stay mad at the boy—it had been a mistake anyone would have made.

Another two hours passed in silence, neither yet comfortable with speaking to the other since the details of the last spell had been explained. Dark had retreated back into Daisuke's mind, abandoning his astral form to let his host browse through the books Dark had picked out. It was tedious work, and the thief was confident he didn't need to be there looking over the boy's shoulder the entire time—if Daisuke needed him, he'd call.

* * *

Daisuke frowned and turned the book around, hoping the strange letters might start to make more sense if he, perhaps, looked at them from a different angle. It was no luck—he was stuck with digging through his own mind to try and remember what his mother had taught him of the language.

"_You'll need to at least be able to read them, Dai-chan!"_ she'd explained, _"All these books certainly won't be of any help if you can't make out half of what's in them!"_ It made no difference how often he'd whined about having to learn useless languages as a child—Emiko would never give him her reasoning behind it. He now realized it was just another aspect of his kaitou training.

Latin, Greek, Russian, German, French, Indian, Arabic, and more—he had enough trouble reading English in his classes at school without having to learn all these others! Why they couldn't just stick to simple Japanese mantras was beyond him.

The alphabet this spell was written in…looked vaguely like English, with a few strange letters—that was Greek, right? Now, what was that first letter? It looked like a deformed English "s," or was that a "b"? He scrunched up his face in concentration and pulled from his memories the lessons he'd had drilled into him by the Niwa matriarch.

"S—no… Th…tho…tho…_thos_? That sounds familiar…" Something stirred in the back of his mind, which he brushed off as Dark simply shifting in his sleep. "_Thos mo_—_thos mou_…_to_…_to ma_—"

'_STOP—STOP!'_

Daisuke cried out in pain, dropping the book and clapping his hands to the sides of his head in an effort to stop it from splitting open as he felt it was trying to do. "Dark—_what_—!" He bit his lip so hard he drew blood, forcing his mind to focus on the new pain in his mouth in hopes to lessen that in his head. "_Dark_!_ Stop it_!"

Almost as soon as it had struck, the pressure eased up, then dissipated entirely, with Daisuke now huddled against the great bookcase. He held his head in his hands, shaking uncontrollably.

'…_I_…_shit, I'm sorry_…_'_ was the lame excuse, muttered almost too softly for Daisuke to register, _'I didn't mean to_…_ But—but I had to stop you!' _He caught himself, _'Dammit, that scared me_…_'_

"Stop me from _what_?" the boy choked out, fighting back tears of pain as he struggled to regain control over his faculties. "That _hurt_!"

'_You were going to_…_to say that spell.'_

"So? That didn't mean you had to try and take over! Just tell me to st—"

'_I did! But—if you'd kept going, not knowing how bad it was, we would've_…_would've_…_'_

When the voice fell silent, Daisuke pushed himself back up, worry seeping into his eyes now. "…Would've what? What was so bad about speaking that spell?"

'…_Didn't I warn you that these books were seriously dangerous?'_ The boy ducked his head in shame, and his curse continued, his tone betraying how obviously shaken he was. _'It was a spell crafted by a sect of pagans in ancient Athens that had been hired by the Alcmaeonids.' _It was evident Daisuke was about to ask just who or what the Alcmaeonids were, so Dark clarified quickly, _'The Alcmaeonids were a family who'd been exiled from Athens by this guy Peisistratus. When he died and his son took over rule of Athens, they saw it as a chance to get their power back, and hired someone to—what the hell_…_it doesn't matter! The point is they made up that spell—it pretty much melds the mind of the caster and the victim.'_

"Melds…their minds?"

'_Well, it was a good idea in theory. Simple mental invasion; it allowed one party to play audience to all the thought processes of the other, great for spying. Thing is, it was way too dangerous to use, and got sealed away. It had a nasty little side effect of letting one get into the mind_…_but never letting them out_…_'_

Daisuke felt that same sickness settle over his stomach again and cradled his head in his hands. "…I can't believe I almost…"

'_I'm sorry_…_for frightening you. Why don't we_…_stay away from the grimoires for now_…_?'_ He projected and smiled down at his host, hoping to put the boy a bit more at ease. _'Maybe if I keep you away from books with spells that might kill you or Hiwatari, I won't have to watch you all the time.' _With a sly wink he added, _'Not that I don't like watching you, of course.'_ Daisuke's brilliant response was to blush and sputter, but Dark just pointed out a new book and instructed his host to browse through it. _'Should have lots of sleep spells—that's when the mind is most open to manipulation. If you're gonna find an incantation to use short of killing him, that's where it'll be.'_

Daisuke nodded firmly, then plopped on the stone floor and pulled the book into his lap, settling in.

* * *

"Dark!" he called brightly, aware that his counterpart had once again slipped into slumber, or whatever it was curses did inside their hosts. "Ne, Dark! I think I found one!" He was quite pleased with himself; after a thorough reading of the section on the spell, he was confident that this wouldn't meld their minds or render Hiwatari-kun a vegetable. Actually, Daisuke himself wouldn't have to do anything.

'…_What is it now?'_ came a sleepy voice, _'You kill him yet? 'Cause I'm going back to sleep if you did_…_ I exorcise art—resurrecting your boyfriend's not in the job description.'_

"I didn't _kill_ him, for your information," Daisuke returned, haughtily ignoring the "boyfriend" remark. "I think I found a spell to use! It's in German, but I can at least understand the description—look!" Dark complied and projected himself at the boy's side, leaning over to see what his host had found. "It says here that it's part of a line of spells concocted as information obscurers. It was originally 'designed to seal away information, such as a password or phrase, for recollection at some later point in time.' You learned stuff, erased it from your own memory, and made a note to use this spell to go back to a certain point in time and recall whatever you needed to know."

Dark nodded, impressed. _'And just how did you intend to use this on Hiwatari? What exactly do you want him to remember?'_

The red eyes narrowed and his frown deepened. "I want him to remember the Hiwatari-kun he used to be. I'm going to use this spell and make him confront…himself." Dark raised a thin eyebrow, and the boy continued, feeling the need to justify going to such lengths. "I know…that nothing I say now is going to convince him that what I'm telling him is the truth—he just won't listen anymore! So…maybe if he meets _himself_—the Hiwatari-kun who still hated Krad and would never trust him…then maybe it'll be enough to snap him out of whatever's happened."

There was a pause, and Dark pressed gently, _'_…_And what if he won't even listen to himself?'_

"That…is _not_ an option."

* * *

Being a lesser demon wasn't the world's most glamorous of jobs, but the Niwa familiar took his position as aid to the legendary Phantom Thief Dark _quite_ seriously. When he was summoned, he was at his master's side in an instant; when the need arose, he would take on whatever form his master asked; and when his master sent him off on a mission, he was pleased to do his duty and oblige him.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the railing of the balcony outside the apartment of the Hikari host on an early spring night. He'd been fitted with a radio collar of sorts, apparently with his master's host thinking that through it With might be able to relay information regarding the boy he'd been sent to observe.

His master's host, at times, was not the brightest crayon in the box.

"_Ne, With! Is he asleep yet?" _came Daisuke's nervous voice over the radio waves. _"It's ten o'clock already—he should at least be settling down by now. What do you see?"_

Heaving a mental sigh, the sprite offered the best answer he could:

"Kyuu!"

"… '_Kyuu'? With, what're y—shut up, Dark! Yes, I know he can't speak, thank you very much. But all he has to do is—hey, With! Just change into me or Dark! Then tell me—"_ There was a pause, silence settling over the airwaves. _"What do you mean 'creepy boy might see him and molest him'? Dammit, Dark! Help me out here!"_

With sighed again, as best a fluffy rabbit-sized lesser demon could.

* * *

'_But why did you give it back?'_ Krad asked for the third time that evening since Satoshi had arrive home from school, _'I thought you enjoyed the meal!'_

The boy fought back the instinctive retort that this had been _precisely_ the reason he'd felt the need to return it—he didn't want anything sitting around which bound him even further to his curse. He _didn't_. Especially not books that inspired that curse to do nice things for him. "Yes, well, you thought wrong." He dared a glance up to the image which had been following him around as he put away dishes, and noted with a pang that it seemed almost offended now, "The…the rice was too cold. And it didn't stick together enough. And—and the sauce was too thin. You overgrilled the vegetables and undergrilled the fish. I could've cooked a better meal with my eyes closed."

'_Oh I'm quite sure you could have,' _Krad drawled lazily, fighting rolling his eyes, _'_…_You're not a very effective liar, Satoshi-sama.'_

"Well—I've no reason to explain myself to you. If you think knowing why is important enough that you feel the need to go digging through my thoughts, then by all means be my guest; it won't be the first time you've violated my privacy. I don't _want_ any more stupid little _favors_ from you, understand? I don't want—" He wisely stopped himself before proceeding any further, stacking the last plate on a drying rack with the other dishes he'd attended to that evening. "Your efforts last night were appreciated. That should be more than enough. Be glad I don't suspend you from battling Dark on the grounds that you took my body without permission."

'_To cook you dinner—!'_

"I said I _didn't want it_!" the boy snapped, whirling on his curse in the doorway to the kitchen. "Your being—being _nice_, I don't need—"

_'Oh, then shall I treat you harshly again? Would you prefer I return to the Krad who took you without question, who would have killed the Niwa boy without so much as a passing thought as to your opinion on such an act? Would that please you? Because you know I would do so in a heartbeat, should that be your desire—and only for that reason.' _

…Return?

Satoshi steadied himself in the doorjamb, ducking his head. He'd never heard Krad speak outright about his "changing." Their pact had been surrounded by a field of eggshells upon which neither of them were permitted to tread, and here Krad had actually spoken of _returning to before_…implying that he'd come to some new place, new position.

"…Th—thank you…for dinner…"

Krad blinked a few times, caught off guard by the abrupt change in the boy's tone. Quickly catching himself, he simply noted, _'_…_That is only the second time you've ever thanked me for something_…_'_

Rubbing off the comment, Satoshi marched back to his room, stripping his over-shirt off in the hallway and tossing it into the clothes hamper. "Do more that's worthy of a 'thank you' and I might consider it more often."

'_Did we not just have an argument in which you vehemently stated that you didn't want me doing any such things for you?'_

Satoshi stopped halfway through slipping out of his undershirt as well—it _was_ an unusually warm night, and Krad's presence didn't seem to bother him as much as usual—and he cursed mentally.

'_It would facilitate my doing what would please you if you would be so kind as to clarify precisely that: What exactly do you want from me?'_

He finished stripping off the shirt and turned his gaze from the foot of the bed he now stood at back towards his curse situated at the door. "…I don't know. All I know is what I _don't_ want from you…and that in itself scares me…"

'_Then if it is so frightening, tell me, that I might not unknowingly commit such a deed!'_

Then, for the first time in his entire tenth incarnation, for so long as he had known the boy and the boy had known him…Satoshi smiled at him.

It was not, unfortunately, a pleased smile, but rather one laced with grief and regret, one of the clever masks his host was so adept at maintaining. Satoshi seemed to sense the awkwardness of the expression and turned his face away, crawling onto the bed and pulling back the covers.

'…_You're not going to tell me, are you, Satoshi-sama?'_

He slipped under the sheets. "No…and it's not for the reason you're probably thinking, actually… It's simply that…it won't do either of us any good. If it will be, it will be. I learned long ago that things such as fate cannot be overcome by a mere human…even by a Hikari…"

'_And yet you will not even let me try and avoid such a thing? You know that I am no "mere human" as you put it! You think I would be subject to such a thing as this "fate" you mortals believe in?'_

"You are…_so_ arrogant…"

No one can escape fate, Krad. _No one_.

…_I don't want to love you_…

* * *

Daisuke wound up deciding that the best option would be to just have With return home when Hiwatari-kun went to bed as a sign that it was alright for the spell to be cast, and it was nearing the eleventh hour when the white ball of fluff popped up in the basement once more.

'_You know,'_ Dark began slowly as Daisuke leafed through the tome to find the spell he'd selected, _'We could have just put a sleep spell on the guy_…_ Then you wouldn't have had to wait five hours for him to nod off.'_

"_WHAT_!" the boy exploded, nearly dropping the book, "Wh—why didn't you say that _before_ I sat down here the whole evening dodging Mom's questions and Towa-chan's prying? I could've done something with Riku-san tonight!"

Shimmering into existence, there was a sly smile plastered on the thief's face. _'Because—I like seeing you get pissed. Just like you are now.'_

What followed was a softly muttered string of expletives, the details of which we won't delve into. Suffice to say Dark was proud that his Tamer appeared to have been paying such close attention to him during their time together that the boy had picked up a good bit of his colorful vocabulary.

"Alright," Daisuke sighed, propping the book open on a desk by one of the bookshelves, and cleared his throat dramatically. "…Let's see how much German I can remember…

"_Wörter der Gegenwart: Wiederaufruf, aus der Vergangenheit, Hilfe für die Zukunft—lange vergessen und versiegelt, öffne dich! Lasse den, der vergessen hat, wieder erinnern; lasse die verlassenen Gedanken wiederauferstehen. Komm_!"

/Words of the present: recall from the past aid for the future—long forgotten and sealed away, be exposed! Let the one who has forgotten remember once more; let the abandoned thoughts rise again. Come/

* * *

No no I shouldn't have gotten so angry at him it wasn't really his fault he was just trying to be nice dammit I don't _want_ him to be nice I don't want to get any closer to him than I have to

Do I

_'Do you?' _

Maybe I _should_ have kept that stupid book at least I wouldn't have had to listen to Niwa's lecture Niwa always butts in where he's neither wanted nor needed he should just sit at home and worry about his own curse Krad is _my_ curse Krad is _mine_

'_Yours? Since when_…_?'_

It was…well it was nice I guess to be cooked for I've never had anyone cook for me before except for at the Academy but that didn't count that was school and I can't cook myself well I can but not anything edible so it was nice and new to get a meal like that even if it was Krad and even if he took over my body it was still nice

_'So you're admitting you enjoyed that bit of freedom he stole?'_

He was happy too I know he was when he cooked for me I could feel him _smiling_ inside even though I was so mad at him it feels…_warm_ when he smiles inside like something sweet and liquid and soft spreading through me that isn't bad right it's okay to feel that isn't it even if it's Krad Niwa would be mad if he knew that but I don't really care anymore Niwa never shared his warmth with me but Krad does

'_I see_…_and you don't care where that warmth comes from, do you?'_

It feels nice when he's nice even though I don't really want it to I can't help that he does that to me now I would never _never_ have felt that before but it's different now I'm different now he's different now everything's different now

And I like it

'_Stupid fool_… _You don't know what you want.'_

I want to feel him smile more when he stopped Dark that one night he was smiling then and it felt nice then too it's strange that when he's pleased about something really pleased about something I feel it too I wonder why is it just because we're host and curse or is it still the Synchronization no that wore off already it should have even though there was that incident at school last weekend I don't think it's the Synch though it feels different

'_Gods, this is making me sick.'_

Do Niwa and Dark feel that way does Niwa get sad when Dark's depressed sometimes I'm confused as to whether I feel down because Krad feels that way or if it's just how I am I know I get those headaches and lately I think they're from him because they always worsen after we have some kind of fight and I tell him to stop and he claims he doesn't know he's doing it but I think he does

'_Enough, let's begin.'_

…What? Who…?

'_Here, over here—Satoshi, here.'_

…I know you… You're…

'_Exactly so. I am you.'_

* * *

"…You're _not_ me—at least, not the real me." Satoshi surprised himself with the coherency of his thoughts now, feeling as if he'd just awoken from a dream. "I am myself."

The image shimmered, casting a pale glow into the empty blackness surrounding the two boys, eerily reminiscent of Satoshi's own astral form. Was this how Krad saw him? All shine and luster and unworldly—ethereal as the blonde himself?

'_I suppose I won't be convincing you of my authenticity any time soon, though it doesn't really matter. You need but to listen to my piece.'_

"…This is a dream, isn't it?"

The image laughed softly in his head, its lips not even moving, completely devoid of mirth—a laugh Satoshi was used to affecting. _'And if it is? Isn't your entire existence something someone else dreamed up? A mother, or a father—someone had to think you into being, ne?' _The alter-Satoshi smiled slowly. _'Or perhaps_…_this is a nightmare?'_

"…Thanks, but I've had one of those recently, and I'm not looking to repeat it with you."

'_You know, I'm sure Dr. Freud would have something to say on the subject of dream-coitus_…_but you've probably learned enough already. Our curse was quite thorough in his teachings, wasn't he?'_

"You're not _me_," Satoshi repeated firmly, dodging the question.

'_Oh but I am. Or rather_…_you were me. I will be you.' _Before the boy could seek clarification, the image continued, _'But that's not really important. What's important is that somewhere along the way you seem to have_…_changed. We are no longer so alike as we once were_…_and I think it is all his fault.' _The cold blue eyes narrowed maliciously. _'After all, you seem to have been devoting quite a piece of your thoughts to that monster lately_…_'_

Shrugging off the insinuation, Satoshi replied dully, "A bit difficult not to, isn't it. He _is_ a part of me. He's already laid claim to that piece of my mind, so I don't really see it as _granting_ him thoughts so much as…indulging."

'_Yes, yes,' _his reflection replied solemnly, _'For you are nothing, if not one who cedes power, who gives up the fight_…_who indulges.'_

"_What_?" Satoshi hissed, appalled, "Are you implying that I've—"

'_Stopped fighting him? Why yes, I am. Are you going to refute me?' _Satoshi opened his mouth to protest, then slowly shut it again, a blush darkening his features. _'You see? You've given up; you've even taken to thinking of that monster in an almost fond light. And that_…_well, that's just unacceptable._

'_Krad, Krad, Krad_…_that seems to be just about the only thing occupying your mind these days. Krad this, Krad that. Even your most trivial of thoughts somehow bears some faint connection to him. All you can think of, and all you endeavor to. I wonder, just how did he get there, to that place in your consciousness_…_in my consciousness_…_that was once so fiercely guarded?'_

Satoshi clenched his fists, "That's not—he's not—"

'_How did he manage to become such an important part of your life_…_in such a short span of time? Gods, one could blink and it seems your entire attitude changed! How did he manage to sneak in through your pores and engulf you through and through, inside and out, like only he can do? Like only he would do?_

_'He's there, in the back of your mind, sleeping peacefully now—and that's where he should be. But he's not just there, he's all over you—prying into your mind, squeezing into your deepest thoughts and violating you in ways you can't even sense. Monopolizing your reason, looking over your shoulder, holding your hand and guiding you as he will…_

'_And you_…_you will follow him, won't you? You will oblige any request he might make of you, go where he tells you to, and all because_…_because_…_why?'_

"He's—he's different! He's not like before!"

'_So, because he's changed? Because he's nice and thoughtful and says that you, his Satoshi-sama, are the most important thing in his life? That he'd do anything for you?'_

The image shook its head, but stayed firmly rooted in place, mouth never moving as it muttered in a tone oozing pity, _'Satoshi_…_when did you become so foolish?'_

"You look like me," the boy growled, eyes narrowing, "but like _hell_ you really are. If you were, then you'd understand him now like I do. If you were with him always, two as one, listening to his little thoughts straying into my mind even when he does mean them to…you'd understand."

It was apparent that simply lacking any understanding of Krad didn't seem to faze his counterpart, so Satoshi continued in an effort to enlighten his other self. "Like the fact that he likes to sleep in now, doesn't feel he has to watch me all the time—I'm never able to fully wake up before ten o'clock nowadays, and I suspect it has to do with the fact that half of me is still unconscious.

"Or that he likes History best of all my subjects, particularly when we study eras from when the Hikari clan was in another country, so that he can learn the Japanese history he missed. He frequently prods me into skipping gym, usually on days following a job Dark pulls, telling me that I'm too weak to put up with any significant strain on my body after such an expenditure of Astral.

"If you were with him like I'm with him, if you really listened to him…then you'd also know how much…he really does care for this clan. I'd always taken his words at no more than face value…but he truly appreciates and wants to protect those artworks. He knows each and every last one by name, could spot the real one in a roomful of copies with his eyes closed, and he loves them as he loves…me."

Satoshi swallowed thickly, his heart giving a little leap at the sudden realization that in all probability Krad had just heard him say that. Ah well, too late now… "And…and so…I understand him. Better than before, at least. And I think…that I like the Krad I've come to understand. Not because he's nice and thoughtful and says that I'm the most important thing to him, as you put it—even though he _is_ all those things, to me… But he's always said I was precious to him…I just never chose to believe it.

"Why now, you want to know? You think it's laughable, the thought that he might have changed somehow. I realize now, and firmly believe, that he's simply never had motivation to before; he never realized that he _needed_ to. And…yes, maybe it is arrogant of me to think that—that he's done it all for my sake, but…well, I do."

_'Then he's drawn you in and gotten his hooks into you already!'_

"Gods," Satoshi laughed, "You sound like _Niwa_."

'_At least one of us does. Look at you! You're nothing but the shadow of the Hiwatari Satoshi you used to be—the Hiwatari Satoshi I am! He hasn't changed—he's plotting, scheming, just like monsters of his caliber do, all behind your back!_

'_He's played a masterful hand, gathered his cards so carefully and cleverly that you are all but blind to his deceit. He knows where to tug to make you follow and has you on a golden leash now. Mark me—he intends to choke you with it when you least expect it.'_

Satoshi's expression was completely blank, unmoved by the assurance. "Your argument doesn't faze me, as you have yet to convince me to place any trust in your claims. Until you either demonstrate some proof that you understand him better than me, or until he gives me reason to doubt his sincerity—"

'_Simply by existing he's already done you harm! How many times have you—have I woken up in cold sweats from nightmares where he's forced us to kill Niwa or Dark? How many times—'_

"I _know_ him, though—better than you, at least. He could never draw me in this deeply without consequences, without some sort of reparation, compensation. I would _know_ if he was false in his advances. If he held me as close as he has of late, without the purest of intentions—" The image scoffed at the implication of Krad being "pure" "—he couldn't keep it from me! He couldn't whisper in my ear, in my mind, that he changed for me…if it wasn't _true_."

_'You've no idea what he's capable of! How do you—'_

"And neither do you! But I _feel_ it. And…even if he hasn't changed, then…then maybe it's been me that has. Maybe it's been…for the better.

"You're absolutely right; I'm not the Hiwatari Satoshi I was. I abandoned that and any surname still extant; I neither want nor need them, I'm happy just being myself. And since he hasn't forced one upon me, I intend to stay this way. He assured me that he wouldn't force me—that was our compromise. And I believe him, because he couldn't lie to me that way, that close; I'd know if he did—I'd _know_.

"If he'd been scheming like you think he is…I'd know. Because—because I _am_ him, and he's me. I…accept that now. It can't be changed, and…I don't have the strength or will to _try_ to change it anymore. The way things are now…is just so much better than before…"

There was a slight pause, and Satoshi would swear the image was shaking in anger, then a voice exploded in his mind, _'WEAK—so weak! Where is your strength—where did it go? Your critical eye? Your drive? You_…_have stooped this low for him? You are—you are what I am to become!_

'_NO! I absolutely refuse to be reduced to—to this! A sniveling excuse of a man who is too weak and too apathetic to guard even his own existence! I have lived—have survived all these years; I killed my heart, loved no soul, not even my own. I made such sacrifices_…_to merely become you! The thought is perfectly laughable!_

'_All that I did, so that he would not appear—utterly futile! He appeared, regardless of my efforts to contain him, and all these years of effort are now crumbling at my feet like so many sandcastles in the waves_…_and I am to stand by and do nothing about it!_

'_I am to walk along meekly and let myself be swept away—by him! I refuse to become you! NEVER! How—how could you! To throw away everything, neglect everything for him! Your job, your life, your father, your—your freedom! Your dignity! Your PRIDE!_

'_You are nothing but his servant now, and I_…_I hate everything that has to do with him. I hate his very existence, the way his consciousness presses in the back of my mind, smothering me, probing my thoughts, scouting, sneering at me. I can't see it, but I know it, and you_…_you have been defeated by him! You are nothing more than his little slave boy now, his Tamed! And so I hate you as well—I hate my own self!_

'…_For what I will become_…_'_

"Hate is all I used to know." Satoshi's voice was surprisingly neutral after having endured the image's tirade, and he found he wasn't nearly as angry as he perhaps should have been. On the contrary, he quite pitied this…being, whatever he was.

"Hate the Niwas, as I was taught. Hate Krad, as I learned. And to hate myself…should I ever forget to hate." He sighed softly and averted his eyes, "But for _what_? To what end? Hating got me nowhere—kept me in a little, close-minded cage, locked away from my own emotions in a cold, tiny cloister with me, myself, I, and _Krad_.

"_You_ stay locked in there and try not to feel something! I needed—_needed_ to! And he let me; he _didn't_ use me, no matter what you may think—he _didn't_. He took it and cherished it and let it grow as it would, didn't reprimand me, didn't warn me—"

'_Of course he didn't, idiot! That was what he wanted—'_

"—he let me do as I pleased! Which meant I _wanted_ it! He simply absorbed anything harsh I threw at him…and reflected back all the good. And when _he_ was happy, _I _was happy… It was warm, like being with Niwa, and yet so different at the same time. I threw away _nothing_ as I see it, but have gained…so much…

"All my life, all my years at the Academy, I was warned to keep myself closed to emotions—all because of him…and now that I've let myself be open, I wonder how I could possible have hated something like this, why I kept it away, fled from it. I—I want…to be wanted. I _need_ to be needed

"You don't want to become me, you say…" There was a soft, pitying smile, and the image narrowed its eyes fiercely, "Welcome to Fate—you _will_, regardless of whether you want to or not. And just as I was, you too will be consumed with emptiness, yearning to be filled by _some_one—_any_one."

His other self looked as if he were holding himself back from attacking, "…And he will be all you have. You will then embrace him, eventually…I don't…think that I have quite yet. But soon, I can feel it creeping up behind me, a cool breeze on the back of my neck, a pair of eyes boring into me that I can't see yet feel all the same…

"That time will come, soon, when he will ask anything of me…and I'll grant it, just because it's _him_ and he'd not ask something of me that I couldn't supply. When I'll forget that he's supposed to be my curse, and not…not something different. Something _more_…

"Something like…I wanted Niwa to be… Someone who'll be with me always, who'll make me happy. Not because we're of one body, but because we're of one _heart_, because I _want_ it." He absently ran a hand through his hair, tousling it as a distraction. "It's not here yet, that time, but I can hear it, smell it, _taste _it, it's so near…and I have no intentions of fighting it."

_'Weak—!'_

"_Not_ because I'm weak. Not because I give in, faced with no other options—apparently I _do_ have other options, as you're trying so hard to convince me right now. Simply because I _want_ to…because it's as natural as breathing, eating, sleeping; because it just _flows_, host and curse. Because it is what it is."

'_There it is again!' _his image spat, _'That simpering apathetic attitude! Alright, I accept your feelings, I accept that perhaps such emotional isolation will become too much to bear, and I will seek someone out to relieve me of that burden_…_ And at that point I'm sure I'll hate myself even more!_

'_You say you want to feel, but what is there to gain? Once you start feeling and opening yourself up, certainly there is that happiness, the ecstasy—but is there not also pain and torture! Rejection, loneliness—ten times amplified! You want him to be what you would have had Niwa be? Niwa would have been a hundred times better than—than that!_

'_Niwa is worthy; he's kind, generous, honest, if not a bit naïve for one who is supposed to be my enemy. He is_…_' _He gave a soft chuckle, _'Krad's antithesis. How can you even begin to compare them? How can you confuse whatever feelings that demon might have foisted upon you with those for Niwa Daisuke! Niwa Daisuke who never raised a hand against you.' _Satoshi started to protest, but found that this probably wasn't a wise moment to interrupt.

'_Niwa Daisuke who never shrank away from my presence, even though he knew what I would become, what I would try and do to him and his Dark! That bastard dared to raise a hand against Niwa Daisuke! You—I—we loved him! And you just let him—'_

"But—Niwa doesn't love _me_!" He quickly shut his mouth, shrinking back and biting the inside of his lip, not meaning to have implied Krad's feelings towards him again.

The insinuation wasn't lost on his alter self, though, and he quickly retorted, _'And you think that monster does?'_

Well, there was no use in side-stepping the issue any longer, but… "I don't…wish to discuss such a matter in his presence."

The image looked confused for a moment, then twigged as to what the boy was implying, frowning scornfully. _'If his hearing this has got you worried, it's unfounded. He'll not be privy to any of our talk tonight. He's_…_occupied.'_

Now it was Satoshi's turn to wax confused, but he brushed it off, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "I…know what he feels for me—"

'_Base lust, that's all he's capable of.'_

"That's not true—perhaps before, when you knew him…but it's…different. And…it scares me.

"Before, he was so easy to read—he never hid anything, for he never had any reason to. He would do what he wished whether I liked it or not, whether I would willingly submit or not. He had no qualms about watching me or speaking to me like a lo—lover—" He blushed at this, "—but it…has really been some time since he last did anything like that. It's as if…he almost respects my wishes now. Which is exactly what I think he's doing."

He took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I…don't _think_ he loves me…I'm all but sure of it. He would never admit it—and I wholeheartedly hope he never does. Partly because if he ever did, I know I'd not believe him, despite knowing it was true. I guess…that's strange, isn't it? Sort of…denial. It would break me, hearing someone say that to me and _knowing_ it was real, that I was really loved… I couldn't handle that…

"And I also hope he never tells me, partly…because I would have absolutely no idea what to say back. I don't even know how Niwa found the words to let me down…I can't fathom it. Because I couldn't say no, if Krad told me…told me. But I really don't think I could accept him either. I don't…yet deserve such words…

"But I'll change." Satoshi's tone hardened, and he appeared to have found some source of strength and put new fervor into his argument. "And any change is bound to be one for the better at this point. I…won't stomp on my emotions any longer. If you truly are me, the _old_ me…then you'll understand my motives when you too make that decision."

_'It will be a cold day in Hell before I—'_

"You may say you'll never feel this way, but I know myself well enough to foresee it. I will open myself up to whomever I choose. Niwa's closed himself to me, and until I am betrayed yet again, I choose that which curses me to be that which saves me. I am human, nothing more, nothing less; it's humanity's fate to face trials that pain, problems that hurt. I won't risk never experiencing the good just to keep myself from the bad.

"Far from giving up…I consider this a new beginning. No one will stop me; not the Niwas, not the Hikari clan…and most certainly not myself." He gave a slight bow. "I look forward to the day when you'll finally realize that you've become me at last, when you too will give in to his charms… And so until then, leave me. Do not stand in my way…or I will most _surely_ strike you down."

There was a blinding flash of light, and somewhere far away, Niwa Daisuke sneezed.

* * *

"Satoshi-sama!" Krad called into the darkness again for the umpteenth time, having by now lost count of how often he'd yelled for the boy, growing quite worried. It wasn't natural—there was something very wrong in the fact that Satoshi wasn't responding to his pleas in any way. "_Satoshi-sama_!"

He'd sensed it shortly after the boy had lain down for the evening. Their mental link seemed to almost…_snap_. Didn't fade, as it usually did when the veil of sleep descended upon them both at night, just cut off—it was as if his Tamer had been separated from him by an insurmountable wall, through which his cries could not penetrate. When he reached out for that familiar bit of consciousness…it just wasn't there. He would dare conjecture that they'd been physically separated into their own bodies if he weren't still in the astral plain. As it was…

"Satoshi-sama! _SATOSHI-SAMA_!"

'_Satoshi-sama!'_ came a mocking voice inside his mind, and Krad whirled around, wide-eyed, his astral robes floating in the air with the quick movement. When his gaze fell upon the source of the scornful mimicry, he couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped his lips.

"How…did…"

'_Oh_…_' _An image stepped forward, laughing softly to itself and startlingly similar to himself in his astral form. No…he would dare say it _was_ himself. _'I've a good feeling you already have formed a few suspicions in that shrewd mind of yours as to just who I am and how I've come to be here.'_

Krad gulped and ran his eyes over the form, searching it for some way to differentiate it from himself, and shuddered, sick, when he found none. From the high, proud stature, down to the immaculate boots, even in the graceful arch of the image's eyebrows…even Satoshi-sama would not be able to tell. But why would it…?

A gradual smile found its way onto Krad's lips, and he shook his head unsure of whether he should be angry or impressed. "That Niwa brat…this is a spell of his, isn't it?" He now relaxed a bit and circled his mirror appraisingly. "Hmm…quite a piece of work…I must say he's intrigued me." A pause, hand stroking his chin. "Late…nineteenth century? No…early twentieth…Nazi Germany, from the looks of it. Humans never did trust themselves to keep information secret…"

The image nodded approvingly, smile not faltering in the least. _'I am impressed_…_but then, I am nothing if not completely informed of all the spells those Niwas have at their disposal, am I?' _Krad stepped away, back turned towards his other self. _'So_…_then I suppose that means you've got some idea why I'm here.'_

"Actually…I don't. I assume my loss of contact with my host is a side effect of this spell, meaning that _he_ was the target, and not I. Your presence here seems to be something of an anomaly. The receiver was to be faced with a recreation of himself in order to relearn information…which Satoshi-sama must be experiencing." He sighed, silently wondering what "information" the Niwa boy wanted his Tamer to relearn. "_Your_ presence, though…is unexpected. What could your purpose possibly be, I wonder?"

The wicked grin on the images lips widened, and he stated simply, _'A simple question.'_

"Oh, is that all?" Krad crossed his arms, "Then do get on with it. I want contact reinstated between myself and Satoshi-sama as soon as possible, and I'm not above using force to get what I want."

'_You aren't?' _his mirror queried innocently, _'Now, that wouldn't seem to be the case to me. In fact, it appears that, of late, you've started to_…_well, how should I put this: cooperate. Yes, that's the term I'm looking for.' _He leveled a cold gaze at Krad, the smile completely dissipated by now. _'You, Krad of the Hikari, have stooped to cooperation_…_with a human!'_

Krad froze, heart slowing to a single _thump_ before seeming to stop altogether. He recomposed himself quickly, though, and stated simply, "That wasn't a question."

'_Very well then, answer me this: Why? Why change, why abandon your centuries-old duty, your pride garnered over those same centuries, your loyalty to this family—for a human?'_

Not opting to point out that his mirror had most definitely asked more than one question, he instead attacked the brutal characterization of his host. "Satoshi-sama is no mere mortal for you to sneer at; he is your _Tamer_, and I'll not have _any_ part of me, past or present, speak of him in such a manner. _You_ defer to him—in _all_ matters."

'_You speak so high and mightily of that boy—when he barely grants you a passing thought. Gifting him such attentions when he'd as soon step on you as stare at you. It's pathetic!'_

"I don't do it because it's glamorous. I do it because I _want_ to."

'_Then more's the pity. You vie so for his attentions_…_and he despises you.'_

"He doesn't—" Krad began sharply, then caught himself and gathered his thoughts, continuing in a more measured tone, "…despise me…like he used to. He's told me so on more than one occasion."

'_How the boy feels was not the question; I asked why. What possessed you to become so—so involved with this host! Take what you want and break him! He's just a mortal—he cannot stand up to you! Why—just why!'_

"It takes all the pleasure out of the _getting_ of the matter, if that which I seek is taken by force. I wish it to be freely offered, not simply plundered for my own pleasure. You can't—" A frustrated sigh.

"He is…no mere mortal. He is my Tamer first, a Hikari second, anything else third. And that, if nothing else, merits respect. He is radiant in all that he does, in that he indulges me my little whims—"

'_Your whims!' _the image cried, _'Do you hear yourself? You're not having tea with that child—you want to bed him! And as such, just take it and be done! You've no reason to stoop to—'_

"I don't want to just—it's not as simple as that anymore! You may not have encountered it yet, but you _will_. You too will come to stand upon that precipice with your few options laid open before you, and will choose _him_ over this family. To serve…the one who will make you _feel_…"

'_Feelings,' _his mirror scoffed, eyes narrowing, _'We've no need for such trivialities. With our purpose so clear, I cannot imagine that you'd even have time for those things. Oh—wait!' _He paused, as if recalling something, _'That's right—you've abandoned your purpose.'_

"I have done no such thing! I battle Dark as I always have—"

'_Not as you always have—you lack your telltale intensity.'_

"Perhaps, but I have _not_ slackened my pace. Rather…Satoshi-sama has served as a catalyst and urges me on. He and I share now…what no other host has ever granted me: status as an equal, partner in a compromise. He doesn't see me as his _Tamed_; true, he may despise me, but he at least does so with the belief that I am just another existence, no lower or higher in rank than he.

"And it was _he_ who first granted me tears—the first in so long I cannot recall when last I experienced them. He graced me with his pain—pain caused by _me_, and I cannot help but change and relieve him of it. When his tears fell like so much rain on my consciousness…I knew then. Knew that any feelings I'd felt towards him were irreparably changed. I could not treat him as before, would bow to his wishes with nary an objection."

'_And thus we return to square one: why? What would it matter if there was one more miserable human on this planet—what would it matter that it was even your own host? You've made their lives miserable before—Izumi-sama would attest to that—why start now?'_

"The difference is that now…I can _regret_…"

The image froze, face going slack. _'_…_Regret_…_?'_

A solemn nod. "I cannot look at him without it piercing me to the core. Knowing that it was always _me_—always my fault. That such a beautiful being has been brought so low simply by my careless actions and words…

"Why? I don't suppose I really _know_ why. Even I can't understand it. I couldn't pinpoint when I changed, couldn't say, 'Oh yes, that day I was the Krad of before, and on the following morn I changed.' And it's precisely for that reason that I cannot tell Satoshi-sama of my true intentions with our agreement… I fear seeming weak in his eyes."

'_And yet you are weak—such a clever mask we wear, ne?'_

"You'll succumb as well, mark me. It will be like an avalanche—once I began wanting to change, to be accepted by him, I couldn't stop, kept wanting to be better and better, to be liked more and more, hoping…always hoping. _Always_."

'_And just what do you intend to do,' _the image queried gravely, _'When he tires of your games and sloughs you off like tea dregs? When he never accepts you despite your oh-so-valiant attempts to win his favor? Will you take it and render all your work useless? Or lower your head even further under his yoke? Surely you must tire of such harsh words being flung at you by one who should be under you—in every sense of the term!'_

"I will not claim I endeavor so with purely altruistic intentions…for I fervently hope that some sort of miracle will occur that might…" A pause, and he cut himself short.

'…_He's defeated you. Krad of the Hikari has finally lost. Not to his blood-borne rival_…_but to his man-child host, not even fifteen years aged_…_ Dear gods, what has this world come to?'_

A wry smile, and Krad closed his golden eyes like snuffing out two candles. "A world in which even one born of stone can come to life… A world where any transformation is possible…"

Silence filled the distance between the mirror and the curse, then:

'_Gods help me should I ever end up like you_…_'_

Laughter. "Would that they might, friend. Would that they might. One can only hope that my prayers are heard by _some_one."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ Yay for stream-of-consciousness! Hope I didn't lose too many people back there--no, those weren't typos, that was just me digging into our boys' minds. Many thanks go to Angel-chan for the help on the German translation (she warns me it wasn't exactly literal, but I hope any German readers don't hold that against me!). Have I successfully turned you all against poor Daisuke? Well, there's still next week, in which Satoshi learns to waltz and Krad makes a decision. 


	16. Pygmalion Unbound

_Galatea_

_Sixteenth Movement: Pygmalion Unbound_

"As once with prayers in passion flowing,  
Pygmalion embraced the stone,  
till from the frozen marble glowing,  
the light of feeling o'er him shone."

_Friedrich von Schiller_

* * *

Daisuke eyed Satoshi like a hawk the next day, catching glimpses of the boy whenever he could while remaining unnoticed. _'Ne, Dark! He doesn't look any different_…_how are we supposed to know if it worked?'_

He could almost feel the thief shrugging in his mind. _'Like I'm supposed to know? Try asking him if he's still crazy about his curse. If he calls you an insensitive bastard and punches you, chances are it didn't work.'_

Frowning, Daisuke shot another glance down to Satoshi, who was eating a bentou underneath one of the trees in the courtyard. It had been some months since the Hikari boy had stopped joining him on the school roof, and so Daisuke alone, with only Dark for company, was stuck spying on his friend from above.

He squinted his eyes and struggled to focus on Satoshi's face, and noticed his mouth moving. Being too far away to make out the words but seeing no one else nearby, he concluded that Satoshi was either speaking to Krad or had gone schizophrenic. He shuddered at the thought of _another_ personality seizing the boy—no, one was _definitely _enough.

'…_I don't think it worked.'_

'_Like I said,'_ Dark sighed, _'You wanna know for sure, go ask him. I'd advise you to be subtle or something, but I really don't think that's your strong point, so it's probably useless.'_

"Hey! I can be subtle!" the redhead pouted, packing up the remains of his lunch and sipping the last of his juice pack.

'_Dai, you wouldn't know subtlety if it pranced around nude under a full moon then smacked you over the head with a two-by-four.' _Grinning slyly from inside the boy's mind, he added as an afterthought. _'Don't think about it too much_…_ Heads can be used for so much more enjoyable activities.'_

"I…wait, what are you talking about?"

'_See? You wouldn't know it.'_

* * *

Satoshi flopped onto his couch most ungracefully and flipped forward and back in the book he had resting upon his chest, groaning inwardly at the monumental task laid out before him to complete. Eyelids drooping, after five minutes had passed he finally realized he'd been reading the same paragraph three times through, not really comprehending anything the author was trying to explain, and at this rate the fourth time wasn't doing much good either.

"Why on earth did I sign up for _this_ gym project?" he moaned to himself, flinging the book onto the coffee table and slapping a hand to his forehead.

'"_Ballroom dancing", Satoshi-sama?'_ a curious voice piped up from his mind, and he shot to attention, then relaxed again, face contorting into an annoyed frown. _'This is what you're throwing a fit over?'_

Satoshi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and picked up the book again, growling to his curse, "A bit obvious, isn't it? Weren't you paying attention at all earlier? And I think I can do without a commentary from you on this—I'm going to have a hard enough time…a week is hardly long enough for me to get this down…"

He scanned the pages, running his eyes over diagram after diagram, each a more jumbled mass of dashes and feet than the last, and he hung his head in defeat. "I'm never going to get this by Friday…"

'_Satoshi-sama_…_' _a voice called tentatively.

"Krad—just _be quiet_—if you're not helping me then you're hindering me, _alright_? Let me concentrate on th—"

'_Satoshi-sama,' _the voice continued more forcefully, and the boy's eyes shot up as the image of a tall blonde appeared directly in front of him, staring down, with one hand outstretched to his host. _'If you must learn to dance, then why not learn to truly dance?'_ Blue eyes narrowed in confusion, and he pulled back slightly, but Krad did not let his hand fall. _'Really, what other form of entertainment do you think there was in the seventeen hundreds besides balls? And a Hikari, missing a social event like that? Preposterous!'_

"What are you…?"

The image heaved a sigh. _'You must learn to dance, am I right? And you're not going to learn properly by reading some book. The true art of dancing comes only in the doing. Now come—I will teach you.'_ He beckoned the boy up from the couch and stepped back into the middle of the room.

Frozen in place—from both shock and confusion—it took Satoshi a moment to register Krad's call, but he quickly shook his head and tentatively stood, still eyeing the being before him warily. Was this…really Krad? It just didn't fit…dancing lessons and a centuries old curse…

Having moved the coffee table off to the side to give them more space in the center of the room, the two stood facing each other uncertainly. Face a blank mask, Krad spoke first. _'We start off facing our partner, with our shoulders parallel—I will demonstrate the steps first, then you will play the lead male part, and I will follow with the female routine to prepare you for your performance.'_

He straightened up and raised one arm, cocking the other at an angle. _'You, as the male, should place your right hand slightly underneath the woman's left shoulder blade, keeping it at a right angle to your own body—like so.'_ He reached around underneath Satoshi's left arm and rested his phantom hand on his back, cupping the boy near. _'Your left arm will be raised and positioned so that she might rest her hand lightly on it—keep it held out from between the two of you.'_ Guiding Satoshi's own hand to the correct position, he held his left arm out, _'Do you understand that much?' _Looking the blonde over one more time, he nodded. _'Good, now you do it.'_

He frowned but did as he was told, straightening up as best he could, and trying to position his arms around the image before him as that same image had just held him. It wasn't, actually, a difficult stance to take, save for one problem. "It's…you're…I can't exactly find the right way to hold—because you're not _real_…" he muttered, frustrated.

'_It matters not, all you must do is memorize the stance and recreate it with your partner—I_…_I do not expect you to be able to move with me as you would another human_…_this is simply practice. It is enough, isn't it?'_ A hesitant nod. _'Very well then, you're to learn the English Waltz, correct?'_

* * *

'_One two three, one two three, one two thr—Satoshi-sama_…_you're turning your shoulders again, and you must keep your body weight forward, no prematurely leaning to the side. The motions will come nat—'_

"Al_right_! I get it!" Satoshi barked angrily, "I just—I _know_ what to do, we've gone over it time and time again, but I'm starting to think it'd be an easier task to simply let _you_ do this presentation in my body…_hey_…" A devilish glint flickered in his eyes as he stroked his chin in thought.

Krad, though, didn't appear to find the idea intriguing and tapped his foot in annoyance. _'Satoshi-sama, I don't understand what you find so difficult about all this, it's a simple English waltz; be glad your sensei doesn't have you doing a Viennese Waltz or Quickstep_…_'_

The boy nodded his head, waving off the admonition, "I know, I know, just…"

Krad crossed his arms, _'Just what?'_

"I don't…I'm…_nervous_, I guess…Dancing's not something I suppose I'm all that comfortable with. Painting is one thing—a spatter on a canvas, then it goes off to be viewed and I don't have to see the critics. But _this_, it's in front of people. What if I step on her foot, or miss one step—then the entire balance is thrown off…"

Stepping forward and cocking his head in thought, Krad held his arms out in ready position. _'Come, Satoshi-sama_…_from the top_…_'_

"I _told _you what my problem was—weren't you listening? Just practicing isn't going to help—"

'_Trust me.' _He held his right hand out, and Satoshi gently lay his own in the palm of thought and will, its pale astral glow making his own skin seem more pallid in its light. _'Look into my eyes_…_look up at me and at me alone—keep focused on me, and you won't lose your step.'_ A preparatory weight shift, and the boy took the cue, no longer diverting his eyes to his feet to assure he wasn't stepping on Krad's boots, nor out at their arms to assure they were keeping proper distance from each other. As one unit, they moved forward, back, shifted to the left and right, twisting clockwise and counter-clockwise—all the while, with Satoshi keeping his gaze locked on Krad's.

The golden eyes smiled along with their owner as they completed a turn which Satoshi had only moments ago failed, _'Wonderful, wonderful_…_right front, hold hold, right back, left side, right side—perfect!'_

It was amazing—though he had no partner of form or substance even, he was executing the twists and turns as if in the arms of a master artisan of dance, and indeed—Krad _had_ probably been to more balls than Satoshi could count. A simple point of focus, and everything flowed, as if the golden being were threading magic through their conjoined palms, filtering it down through the soles of his feet in perfect waltzing rhythm.

'_See? Did I lie to you?—All you need worry about is keeping that concentration with you during the presentation. Dancing is simply another art form, and as a Hikari you can't help but master it once you give it your blood-ingrained focus.'_

Satoshi suppressed a smile, pulling his arms away from their posts supporting the weightless Krad. "Alright, alright…but therein lies the problem…"

* * *

"Next up, Hiwatari-kun and Fukuda-san!" the teacher called across the room, smiling at the two students she'd just called to come up and give their presentation. It wasn't, on first look, a difficult project. In their gym classes, students had been split up into pairs to give a report on some type of dance: classical, modern, ballroom, social, fast, slow, any type of dance—they simply had to explain and demonstrate it. Simple enough, right? Well, that's what Satoshi had thought at first.

After spending five days practicing under the ever-hawklike gaze of his curse, constantly pointing out minor faults in his form and molding him to perfection, he felt he'd finally managed to get his little bout of nerves under control. Focus was the key, _focus_, he had to repeat the mantra.

His partner was Fukuda…Fukuda…he couldn't even remember her given name. All he knew was that she was one of the gaggle of girls who hung around with that younger Harada twin all the time, giggly and moony-eyed. He'd suggested they simply practice separately for the performance this day, and she'd immediately agreed, hanging on his every word. Mildly disgusted, he conjectured he could have suggested she go jump off a cliff and the twit would have done so without hesitation.

"Are you ready, Fukuda-san?" he asked flatly, offering her a slight bow, and she giggled annoyingly, nodding her head in affirmation. "Good, let's begin." As accustomed, he wrapped his right arm around her back, molding his fingers to her shoulder blade, with his left held out for her to grab. She too seemed a bit nervous—as would most girls, at the opportunity to dance with _Hiwatari-kun_—and he offered her a reassuring smile as the music started.

The first few steps passed uneventfully, as under the watchful eyes of their thirty classmates they twisted and turned across the floor in rhythm to the easy music. On the third turn, though, the toe of Satoshi's foot caught on the hardwood floor, and he stumbled slightly, missing his next step and knocking their pair off.

"W-wait…_damn_," he cursed softly under his breath, trying to pick out the start of the next round, straining his ears to hear the familiar pattern of beats…

'…_May I have this dance?'_ a surprisingly welcome voice whispered soothingly in his ear, and his eyes widened in relief.

'_Calm down, now, Satoshi-sama_…_Breathe, do not get flustered, focus on me_…_on me alone_…_'_ The image he'd been faced with the whole week flickered into view, until Fukuda-san was all but forgotten, and to him it was simply he and his curse dancing a slow elegant waltz across the floor, with each step of the phantom boots in perfect synchronization with the Fukuda girl's.

'_Flow gracefully, just like before_…_You are Hikari Satoshi, my Tamer, my focus_…_let me be yours_…_'_

A sharp gasp erupted from the middle of the small audience, and several gazes snapped to the wide-eyed redhead who'd made the noise, mouth hanging open in absolute shock.

Some chided him with narrowed glances, while others settled for a harsh, "Shh!" To his left, Saehara elbowed him and hissed, "What's your problem, Daisuke?"

Gaping mouth struggling for words to explain his shock and failing, he settled for brushing it off, "N-nothing…I'm fine…sorry…"

The other students turned back to the dancing Fukuda and Satoshi at the front of the room, but Niwa Daisuke simply slunk lower and lower into his chair, mind clouded with confusion.

Of course he was the only one who gasped, of course he was the only one who would look up there and slip into shock. Because, of course he was the only other one who could see the display being performed.

Everyone saw Fukuda-san, everyone saw Hiwatari-kun…but he and Satoshi alone knew that while the two humans glided across the floor in tempo, it was really _Krad_ and his host up there.

He'd seen Dark's astral image thousands of times, it was how they interacted with one another when they were alone, or at home. It simply was easier to think of yourself as talking to another person rather than a voice in your head. And he knew that Krad could do this as well; but both were just that: _image_. Hikari and Niwa magic, that was all, not flesh and blood—not without their hosts.

And right now, Krad had positioned his image directly over Fukuda-san's body, to where only he could look up and see what face Satoshi was _really_ looking at as he entered the last part of the dance. He was literally waltzing around the gym floor in the arms of his _curse—_in front of his entire class! Never mind that _of_ that class, Daisuke alone knew this.

"_Hiwatari-kun_!" his partner hissed to him, and he blinked a few times to shift his focus through Krad's image at the irked girl in his arms, "Your _eyes_! You're supposed to keep eye contact with your partner, _remember_?"

"Ah—gomen…" he replied lamely, and moved his gaze dutifully from a few inches above the girl's head to her face itself as they'd been instructed. After another beat, though, he instinctively turned his eyes back upwards while keeping his face forward, and couldn't help the upward tugging up his lips, nor the pink tinge that marched across his cheeks as he was showered with encouragement.

'_Excellent Satoshi-sama! Keep going, you're nearly done—step front, hold hold, step back, right side, left side, turn and— stop!'_ The dance ended, and the human partners separated, as did Krad, with Satoshi offering the girl a curt bow, and receiving in return a low curtsy that nearly sent the giggling girl tumbling forward headfirst onto the floor.

Daisuke watched in a mixture of curiosity and worry as Krad's image bowed low to his partner before fading away, leaving Satoshi to make his way back to his chair as he and Fukuda were applauded profusely. The Hikari boy passed Daisuke's desk halfway back, and the two locked gazes for a split second, before he broke away and quickly resumed his seat.

_This_ Satoshi…_this_ Hiwatari-kun…was different from the Hiwatari-kun he was familiar with. His Hiwatari-kun would have _never_ stooped so low as to accept help from Krad, especially not on something as trivial as a _school_ _project_. _What_ was going on here?

He got the chance to ask as soon as the bell tolled, dismissing them to their respective classes.

* * *

"Hiwatari-kun!" Daisuke had to raise his voice a few extra decibels to overcome the after-class din that accompanied the throng of students all pushing to exit the gym and return to the normal classroom, and the red-head scrambled through them as best he could to catch up with the Hikari boy, "Wait—Hiwatari-kun!" He finally broke free into the main hallway a few steps away, still calling out—and still being obviously ignored.

Fed up with waiting to talk—and with being continually brushed off lately every time he tried to talk with the blue-haired boy—Daisuke angrily reached out and gripped the wrist nearest to him, jerking the unsuspecting Satoshi off to the side where they could get some semblance of privacy. "What the _hell_ was that?" he hissed angrily, face flushing with ire seldom seen in the Niwa boy.

Satoshi adjusted his glasses as if nothing had happened, maintaining his usual cold glare, and easily snatched his wrist back free from the grip. "What was _what_, Niwa? Were you unsatisfied with Fukuda-san's and my gym report? If you're really that interested, I can direct you to a few books that might be of some assist—"

"What was _he_ doing up there?" Daisuke gripped his shoulders, as if shaking sense into the boy, "He was…you were…"

"Dancing?" Satoshi finished nonchalantly, as if it were a perfectly normal everyday occurrence nowadays. "Really, I don't see that it's any of your business what he and I do outside of Dark."

"So you…you actually…_meant_…to _dance_…with _Krad_?" It was apparent that this was something Daisuke was having a hard time comprehending—though it wasn't like anyone could blame the poor boy, after all. Krad _had_ tried to kill him—seeing him dancing a waltz with the same boy who'd confessed his love to him only a couple of months ago would unnerve even the most level-headed of people.

Satoshi turned his head to the side, "He…we practiced…for today…" His gaze, though, was drawn back forward as Daisuke's head began to move from side to side in abject refusal to accept that this was really happening.

"No…you mean…you're letting him! You're letting him _win_!"

"…_What_?"

Daisuke nearly exploded, holding his voice in check only because there was still a throng of students passing by a few feet away around a corner—a throng who really didn't need to be involved in the Niwa/Hikari feud.

"Don't you _see_? I thought you were the shrewd, calculating former police commander! You're Hiwatari-kun—the one who's always cynical, always looking for the angle everyone has, suspicious of anyone you meet, and you…you're actually _falling_ for him! You're letting yourself be—be _used_ by him!" He pounded the wall with a single fist in frustration, "This is _Krad_! Not Dark—"

"Oh _believe me_, Niwa—" Satoshi's voice dropped to a silky threat as he leaned in close, interrupting Daisuke's tirade, "I know _full_ well that he's not Dark…and I don't care."

Hastily pushing the Hikari boy back to a more comfortable distance, the redhead continued undeterred, "Then he's already _won_. That display back there, the dancing—that's not the Hiwatari-kun I know! He would _never_ have let Krad take advantage of him like that. He's _using_ you! Winning territory, getting you over to his side. I'll bet he's been a great guy to be around lately, hasn't he? You're actually starting to not mind him being there in your head, aren't you?"

"Sh—_shutup_!" Satoshi stammered, eyes narrowing in malice, but all his will could not silence Daisuke once he got started.

"Don't you remember? Before? How he's taken you all those times without caring about any pain it caused you? How he's _murdered_? He did—you remember! And he'd kill Dark if he could catch him, you know he would! 'Cause that's all he cares about, his damn 'Hikari honor'—"

"That's not—"

"Not true?" Daisuke laughed incredulously, "I never thought I'd see the day when _Hiwatari-kun_ would actually defend his own _curse_… He really does have you wrapped around his finger now…What happened to the Hiwatari-kun who yelled in front of the entire school that he _hated_ Krad! Bring him _back_—because this one isn't thinking clearly!

"You warned me once that I was giving Dark too much control over my life…that what happened to you would happen to me if I didn't watch myself…But it looks to me like the opposite has happened…except I'm pretty sure Krad's not going to be as gentle with you as Dark is with me."

Shaking his head to keep out the words, Satoshi backed against the wall, "He _is_…he _is, _though…"

"No, he just wants you to _think_ that—he's leading you on! Nothing more! The closer you are to him, the less you'll fight back, and—you _can't_ let that happen!"

Somewhere down the hall a bell dinged loudly, signaling that the next class period had begun, and they were now late. Daisuke pulled back reluctantly, "He…he's hurt so many people… You, me, Dark, Harada-san and Riku-san…so much pain has been caused by him, and I just—I don't want to see it again… I know that Hiwatari-kun hurts a lot…I just want to take away the thing that's hurting you… _Him_."

Satoshi straightened up and readjusted his shirt, which was crinkled from leaning back against the wall. He gathered his books which had slipped to the floor back into his arms and stared at the redhead in contempt, letting the words drift away into the furthest recesses of his mind for later contemplation.

"A few months ago…I might have believed you… But now…I don't think I need to anymore. Your aim is off, Niwa—you don't even know who you're shooting at now, whether it's me, or Krad, or if you should be looking at something inside yourself as the reason you feel such pain right now. Before you worry about _my_ pain…worry about your own.

"I neither want nor need you concerning yourself with my private affairs. It's my life—let me live it as I wish, and take what mistakes may come on my own." He gave a curt bow. "Please don't speak to me again. Good-bye, Niwa Daisuke."

He turned on his heel and slipped away down the hall silent as death, and the redhead could only stare at his retreating form in wonder, with the realization that this was the first time the Hikari boy had ever addressed him by his full name.

And for some reason he couldn't pinpoint…it felt like it really was good-bye, as if they would never see each other again.

* * *

How was it possible, Krad wondered silently, that a boy who during the day possessed such a cold tongue, a biting wit, and a guilt streak a mile long, could be so transfigured by the filtered moonlight that he resembled an angel here and now, come to Krad on Earth to taunt him with visions of what he could never aspire to?

It was simply too cruel to stand and watch from afar, too tempting, rendering him as helpless to change his fate as Tantalus reaching for the elusive apple above his head.

So instead he sat.

It was nigh on two in the morning, and Satoshi had fallen asleep in his after-school clothes, sitting propped up against the back of his bed with his knees drawn up to his chin. In his lap—and now nearly falling to the floor from his feeble grasp—was a copy of some obscure tome of literature he'd been assigned to read. And this same tome, it seemed, had facilitated his slip into dreamland. His glasses rested shakily on the bridge of his nose, sliding down halfway, and his chest rose with an even rhythm before falling back, rocking the book steadily from his lap.

It was almost impossible to resist, the boy was too adorable in that position, like a small child ready for a parent to carry him off to his bed. And had Krad form, he no doubt _would_ have taken it upon himself to make the sleeping Hikari boy more comfortable. As it was, he settled for relaxing onto the bed beside him, simply seeking the chance to watch him further.

There were no masks now, no false pretenses put up to guard against the world, no frowns or smirks, no cold glares or blank stares. The face glowed, reflecting the pale moonlight, rendering Satoshi almost ethereal, as if he didn't even belong on that plane but was astral as Krad—oh, what he wouldn't _give_ if the boy too were astral…

But…Satoshi wasn't astral. He was human, with flesh, blood, a beating heart, a tangible body…everything Krad was not. And just once…just _once_ he wanted to feel that, to know what it was like to brush fingers across the smooth skin of the cheek, not to merely imagine he could sense it. To run a hand through the wispy blue locks that fell across Satoshi's eyes, to know their softness, their tension, their give and pull. And to taste…to taste lips…_what would it be like?_

Eyelids quivered faintly, fluttering open slowly, and Satoshi suddenly sensed another presence in his bed next to him and shot awake, startled at the intrusion. His pulse quickened in the blink of an eye, then returned to normal just as swiftly as he registered just _who_ was next to him. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he queried, confused, "…Krad?"

The blonde was lounging on the opposite side of the mattress, golden head propped up in the palm of one arm, resting on his elbow, with a blank face trying to suppress an amused smile. _'Gomen, Satoshi-sama_…_I woke you_…_'_

"What're you…" He trailed off into a great yawn and covered his mouth wearily, setting the book which had almost slipped to the floor over to the side, and placing his glasses carefully in the bedside table with it, "…doing…on the bed…?" He finally finished the question.

It was obvious that the boy, even though he appeared to want to start a conversation, was still halfway between the waking and the dreaming world—and was well on his way _back_ to slumber land. Humoring him, Krad merely replied, _'Only watching you sleep, Satoshi-sama_… _You are so beautiful when you sleep_…_'_

The compliment was completely lost on the teen, drunk on fatigue, and he let out another loud yawn, shaking his head to try and ward off its effects. "Shouldn't you be sleeping…too?" he queried innocently, pushing his body forward to slide down into a more natural sleep position, and he pulled a pillow close, burying his face into it. Krad smiled down at him, golden eyes laughing at the question Satoshi would surely only ask when he didn't even _know_ what he was asking.

'_I will_…_but I want to watch you for a while longer_…_'_

"Mmm…'kay…" The words were lost, muffled by the pillow, and feathery eyelids drooped lower and lower to cover his icy depths. Krad looked on in rapture as he felt the boy's consciousness drift from physical to astral, back and forth, struggling at once to be awake and asleep—impossible from a human point of view.

'_You did not refute me this time_…_when I told you that you were beautiful_…_you let me, you obliged me_…_aah, Satoshi-sama_…_'_

The sleeper's eyebrows knit in worry, as if he'd just encountered a bad dream of some sort, but soon relaxed back again, and Krad pushed himself up to where he was leaning over the prone form like an anxious parent watching a sick child. A clump of his bangs had separated and was tickling his eyelid, he could see the skin twitching in annoyance, and he wanted…_wanted_ to brush it out of the way, to let his Satoshi-sama sleep on, undisturbed. How cruel that he shouldn't be allowed to sleep uninterrupted!

But he could not brush it away. Even something so simple as batting away an annoying hair or two…his cursed astral form could not do it. No matter how much thought or energy or entreaty he put into the vision…it was image, always and forever. Without flesh or form, without touch or sense. Granted such feelings…only when it least mattered…when that which he wanted to embrace so much was beyond his reach—_within himself_.

'_I wish_…_ I wish I could_…_just once_…_touch you_…_'_

He knew it would do no good. He knew it would only hurt. And yet he did it anyway. He reached out to move the strands of offending hair, and frowned when his fingers simply passed through the follicles with nary a thought given.

Like it didn't even matter that he _wanted_ them to catch, like it didn't even matter that he _needed_ it, like it didn't even matter that he existed in thought…it only mattered that he _didn't_ exist in body.

"…Why're you sad…?" a soft curious voice murmured, and Krad gasped lightly, "…_Krad_…?"

Nothing ever got by the boy, in even his most inattentive state, half-asleep…his half-lidded eyes still caught the faint shimmer in his curse's gaze, watching them glaze over shiny. But Krad was unwilling to let himself be caught like that, and simply shook his head, smiling broader to placate him, and it seemed he succeeded as he rolled back over onto his back, eyes clearly shut now.

_Liar_…

He might have convinced Satoshi, but that did not stop a single tear from slipping free and sliding down his smooth cheek, before falling like a drop of rain onto the bed…_real_…

He cursed to himself—would that he were that tear…

But…but he had to try it…just once. It would be like his hands through Satoshi's hair, just as everything was that way. He was a thought, an image, a ghost of an existence, known to few, seen by fewer…_he didn't matter_.

This, though…this _did_ matter. And no matter how much it hurt, how physically or emotionally it killed him, he would try it as many times as need be, until he either succeeded or faded away, defeated. And he would _not_ be defeated.

He placed his hands as supports on either side of the sleeping former, taking in eagerly the slow rhythmic breathing. Lids drooping, he leaned forward and brushed his own lips across the barely-open ones of his host as best he could manage in his state, and lingered for the length of a heartbeat before reluctantly pulling back.

It wasn't real, he couldn't feel it…but he could know that he had done it, and that was enough. He could think about it, know that it had happened, even though there was no sensation, no fireworks, no electric jolt that a kiss was supposed to be like. Simply knowledge, all in his mind, all in Satoshi's mind…but it was _there_…

"Mmnn…s'warm…" a muffled voice commented wearily, and he unconsciously shifted onto his side and shuffled towards Krad's image, pulling the covers closer.

…Had he felt it? The kiss…had it been real? No, no…no it had most certainly not been…but astral as he was at the moment, and with Satoshi half-asleep, then by chance the two may have crossed astral lines for a brief second, and as a lucid dream, the sensation had been registered as _real._ Perhaps nerves had fired, muscles tensed even, all in response…to something that had simply been in his mind.

All a dream, but at times it could be real. _He_ could be real…

And, for Satoshi-sama's sake…he would try again and again and again…because…because…

Because much as he hated to admit it, Niwa Kosuke was right.

Because he loved him.

* * *

There weren't grains enough of sand on all the beaches and strands of all the oceans of all the worlds—both astral and physical—that could count the number of times he'd stared at his Tamer with nothing but lust and base desire threading through his being, marveling at every curve and contour, letting his golden eyes roam freely over the hills and plains and valleys that made up Satoshi's perfect form.

But right now…right now he could not pretend that when he stood beside the bed and gazed upon that body that anything below sheer awe drove him to stare. No…this was _Satoshi-sama_, a god in human form, his own angel of light. _His_ angel…not to covet, not to possess, but to set free and love from afar, to watch over, to _protect_. Right now Satoshi was no human, not a fourteen-year-old man-child. No…here and now he was exactly as Krad himself: art given life, pure, perfect, flawless, blameless. He was as whole and unmarked as anything formed by Hikari hands in all the generations since his own making.

Yes…YES!

Yes, oh that was it, _YES_. It was so utterly simple when one thought long enough about it.

Satoshi-sama was…a wonderful, beautiful, work of Hikari art…formed of flesh and blood rather than stone and metal. With breath and life and thought and _feelings_—with…true beauty…truly enviable beauty...

He was simply another work of art that Krad was bound by invisible bonds to protect, protect from the Niwas, protect from Dark—to keep close to himself. To keep close to himself…or at least to watch from afar. His Galatea, his precious, precious Hikari Satoshi.

'_I will save you_…_you who do not want to be saved, I will save.'_

If there was one trait that had been quite thoroughly imbued in the blonde by his creators, it was a stout resolve—the ability to carry through most any task he set his mind to.

So if he was bound and determined to protect that host of his from anything that might hurt him—_anything_—then by the gods, he _would_.

Stealthily checking to be sure that his host was still deep in slumber, Krad abandoned his astral form and set to work.

* * *

It took a few minutes for Daisuke's sleep addled brain to actually comprehend that there was a real person standing outside his balcony window, and it wasn't just some angel he'd dreamed up. Though, clad completely in white with such pale skin, and bearing such huge white wings, it was understandable that the boy would mistake his visitor for one of the more ethereal realm.

The two stood facing each other, Daisuke hesitating to let the other boy in until it was explained just what his friend was doing at his house at that hour of the night…standing outside his window with wings.

"Hiwa…tari-kun?" he tested hesitantly, letting his fingers rest on the latch to open the balcony window. All that was returned was a simple greeting nod, for Daisuke's voice probably couldn't have been heard through the glass. It suddenly hit the Niwa boy that whatever Satoshi had come for, it certainly had to be important—or rather, at three in the morning it had _better_ be important, as Dark put it—and he turned the latch, pulling the cord to open the window.

It was unreal, seeing the great wings he'd previously seen only on the Hikari boy's curse. They folded close to their master as he stepped regally forward into the small room without a word, then bent at rest behind him. Daisuke closed the window behind him and turned to stare unabashedly.

He hadn't even known it was _possible_ for the hosts to bear the wings of their curses—of course, after that incident at school, Daisuke supposed he should have suspected it was feasible. Hiwatari-kun just…stood there. In the middle of his room, looking for all intents and purposes like a ghost.

The Hikari boy was clad entirely in white, from his immaculate overcoat, woven from some material Daisuke couldn't identify, down to his impeccable shoes which looked as if they'd never stepped foot on the physical plane before. Gone were the thin wire frames the boy usually wore—though Daisuke knew Satoshi didn't really need them—revealing a bright, determined pair of eyes he'd never noticed before. Hiwatari-kun was…_staring _at him.

Satoshi's gaze was usually so blank and distant, as if he was perpetually staring beyond the years at all the pain that surely awaited him; that gaze…never voluntarily met Daisuke's. It was like the other boy was almost _ashamed_ to look him in the eye. But tonight… Hiwatari-kun held himself differently, carried his head high and proudly, more sure of himself—more…_comfortable_. Those eyes stared right at Daisuke—no…right _through_ him.

They stared at him with something Daisuke dared to consider hunger, something almost devilish had Satoshi smiled in the least. Rooted in place as he took in the sidereal vision that had come to visit him, the Niwa boy couldn't move an inch, even when his friend approached him so slowly it was almost like he was stalking him.

Closer, closer the boy stepped, steadily closing the distance between the two, his expression never changing. His footfalls were silent on the carpet, and the only sound that cleft the quiet was the ever-quickening thump of Daisuke's heartbeat.

There were no words, for Satoshi chose not to speak, while Daisuke _couldn't_. The Hikari boy came to a stop only when he'd approached within barely an inch of his rival, leaving a teasing distance between their lips as if daring the object of his recent desires to do something about it.

And Daisuke, true as he intended to stay to Riku, could not for the life of him figure out why Satoshi was behaving this way…and why he couldn't help being drawn in. He'd _never_ considered the other boy like this—they were friends! Well, _he_ liked to think they were, even if the Hikari boy had wanted something more. Still—this just wasn't like Hiwatari-kun! He'd never…never…

"And you…rejected _this_…"

Satoshi finally smiled when he hissed these words, with a thin upward twitching of his lips that just revealed his teeth—a decidedly wicked smile, something else Daisuke would never have expected his friend to effect.

This Hiwatari-kun…something was so _wrong_… It was almost like…someone had taken Krad's personality and transplanted it into his host. This Hiwatari-kun was aggressive, where Satoshi was usually so passive; was self-assured, almost _cocky_, where Satoshi was usually so quiet and reserved.

'_Daisuke—DAI! Get away! NOW!'_

As if on reflex, Daisuke jumped backwards and collapsed onto his bed, completely snapped out of his stupor. "Hiwa—Hiwatari-kun! What're you—?"

"It certainly took you long enough," Satoshi laughed softly, "Senses dulling in your old age, Dark?" A pause, and that wicked smile was back, leering now. "And you, Wing Master…I could have had your pants halfway down your legs before you had enough sense to react, I'd wager. Honestly! As if Satoshi-sama would stoop to such…_plebeian _seduction techniques!"

Daisuke, the poor boy, repeated the only thing he could in response to this: "Hiwa…tari…kun…?"

'_Not him.' _Dark saved his Tamer from further embarrassing himself and slipped into his astral form immediately, arms crossed and offering their visitor his most menacing glare he could conjure. _'Not him at all_… _How's that stolen body, Krad?'_

"Wha—stolen body?" Daisuke ran his eyes over the body of his friend again, finally twigging as to just what was going on. "That's…" His expression then shot from confused to furious, and he hissed in a low voice so as not to wake anyone, "You! What're you doing here? Why do you look like Hiwatari-kun?"

Krad rolled Satoshi's eyes, sighing dramatically. "Oh don't act as if this is something new to you, boy—I know for a fact that your Dark has taken your body before without fully transforming. It's simply another one of our little 'perks.' Now—" He plopped onto Daisuke's couch on the opposite side of the room motioning for the boy to do the same, "—let's chat."

Daisuke eyed the other boy warily, while Dark tried his very best to convince his host to transform—whatever Krad was there for, it certainly wasn't for a curse-to-boy talk, and that meant it wasn't good.

'_No_…_'_ the boy returned after some consideration, in a moment of daring and insight. _'Not yet_…_I want to see what he's after. If he really did come here to try something, he would've done it in his normal form_…_'_

'_So he just wanted to surprise you! Using that kid's body!'_

'_And if he wanted that then he would've done it before we realized that it was him, don't you think? He wouldn't have waited until you realized what was going on!'_

Dark was silent for a moment, and his host knew he was frantically trying to come up with a reason for Krad's showing up outside their window in the dead of night in his host's body. _'I_…_dammit. Alright. Fine—you two have your little talk. But I'm telling you now, Daisuke_…_he tries anything, and I'm taking you without question. I don't like sitting here unable to do anything, and I don't intend to.'_

Daisuke gave his silent assent, then turned back to his guest, countenance grave. "Fine…what's this 'chat' you came for?"

Krad's gaze narrowed slightly—he hadn't actually expected the Niwa boy to accept so easily, and almost regretted the lost opportunity to bind the boy hand and foot to make him listen. Still, this would prove easier if Daisuke went in _willingly_. He might actually listen, and Krad wouldn't have to take…measures.

"Well then, I suppose I'll get right to the point. I'd like you to…reconsider the implications of your relationship with my host." He frowned and turned away, "Even after how you've treated him…all that you and that Dark of yours have done to him…he seems to still care for you for reasons I cannot fathom. And…it now appears that I've been one with Satoshi-sama long enough that I've adopted one of his nasty little habits." A pause. "…I give up."

"You…_what_?"

'_You_…_what?'_

"I'm telling you to stop leading him on and _do_ something about his affection! You don't deserve his attentions and yet he's intent on lavishing them on you—just…_do_ something, don't leave him there to flounder!" Krad slammed a fist into the cushion and leaned backwards, eyes closed. "I give up…I cannot be you…not for him."

"You—you want me to…_love_ him?"

The troubled eyes shot open again, and Krad hesitated to stoop and respond. "He…he needs it…you've no idea…"

Daisuke felt that familiar sensation creep over him once again—the sensation he'd felt when Satoshi had confessed to him those months before. His heart clenched in his chest, and his stomach gave a few leaps. But more than feeling sick, the boy now felt…perplexed. Confused—not just at the proposition itself, but at the one posing it.

Dark's eyes never left Satoshi's form, staring so fiercely at their visitor that it was almost as if he could see Krad himself lurking just beneath the boy's flesh, moving the body like a puppet with threads of Astral. He could not, however, stare hard enough to uncover Krad's _reasoning_…and it was this that piqued his interest most.

Why would the blonde even _consider_ asking something like this of Daisuke…especially when taking into account Krad's _own_ feelings for his host? Dark was sure his rival quite loathed the Niwa family…so why propose forging this alliance? One he'd worked so hard to keep from happening?

…Krad stood to gain nothing as Dark saw it. Satoshi…would simply be happy.

Simply…be…happy…

"I…no! I just—I can't just _feel_ something like that for Hiwatari-kun just because you ask!"

Krad tried his best to keep his mask of politeness in place, hands itching to knock some sense into the boy. "Then I suggest you make a concerted effort, Niwa. I asked you _nicely_. I don't intend on repeating such a request."

"Well, I'm sorry," Daisuke retorted, "but I can't be that—and there's nothing you can to do convince me or force me to."

"Oh, can't I? I take that as a challenge, _boy_."

Dark bristled, hands fisting at his side, but stood down at a sharp glance from his Tamer. "No—you can't. Love…you can't force someone to love someone else. I would think _you'd_ know that better than anyone else."

Krad's temper was growing shorter with each reply. "I came here to _civilly_ ask you something for once, Niwa—not for some lecture on what I can and cannot do! If I wanted that, I'm sure my _own_ Tamer would be more than happy to comply! This is about Satoshi-sama's well-being and happiness—"

"You don't seem to care too much about his happiness if you're trying to _make_ me care about him! How do you think he'd take it, knowing that the only way to get someone to love him was to have his—his—astral _bouncer_ lining people up for him like some yakuza member?"

"I _do_ care! I—" Krad caught himself quickly, snapping his mouth shut, then glared in true Satoshi fashion. "The point of my coming here is that Satoshi _not_ know. And what he doesn't know can't hurt him. So—provided you do as you've been _kindly_ asked—I see no problems."

"Except that I don't love him!"

"And why _not_?" Krad snapped in response, "You're damn lucky to have _any_ Hikari fixated on you! Let alone one so superb as Satoshi-sama!" He stood now and shook a finger angrily at the boy, "I have stood by these past few months and watched in silence, I've not lifted a _finger _with respect to the relationship between the two of you, but that stops _now_. I'm so _tired_ of—of standing there unable to do anything while he pines for you, or watching him sulk after one of your stupid little tiffs wherein you showered him with false claims of _my_ treachery!

"Who's the _real_ traitor here, Niwa boy? I, who've stayed by his side day and night, comforting when I could, staying silent when I couldn't—or _you_, who's consistently been the very _reason_ he needed comforting?"

"Then _why_?" Daisuke huffed, frowning, "Why ask me—_force_ me to do this, if I'm such a bad person? You want your _Satoshi-sama_ associating with the likes of me? You want a treacherous Niwa like _me_…to love him?"

'…_Because_…_'_ Dark's voice echoed inside his mind, _'It's because_…_he loves him. Krad loves Creepy Boy. I mean_…_really loves him_…_'_ The thief shook his head and smiled wryly before disappearing, retreating back into the boy's mind for the remainder of the conversation. If this was heading where he thought it was heading, then he certainly didn't want to witness it.

Daisuke's eyes were wide and unblinking, prompting Krad to stiffen, on guard, at the unusual change in the boy's demeanor. "Krad…loves Hiwatari-kun…?"

The other boy made a strange sound, like that of all the air in his lungs suddenly contracting, leaving him breathless. His eyes shook in a combination of frustration that he'd been found out and fear that the Niwa boy would somehow use the knowledge against him.

"Tha—no way! There's just…how could _Krad_—"

"Do _shut up_ with the melodramatics! I couldn't care less whether you believe it or not." He frowned and sank back into the couch, arms crossed. "That stupid thief never did know when to keep his nose out of other people's business… _None_ of you Niwas seem to possess that ability."

Daisuke ignored him and continued to shake his head—this was _Krad_! The homicidal maniac who'd killed Commander Hiwatari, who'd nearly killed Daisuke himself! How was he expected to believe that the golden demon of the Hikaris even possessed a heart _capable_ of such a complex emotion as love?

But, if Krad _did_…if Dark was right… His mind began flitting through his memories of all that had happened lately. The recent dancing incident, Hiwatari-kun's night out in Krad's body, that compromise the two had regarding Dark…

Dark was seldom a bad judge of character, and…well, he _did_ know Krad best… So if he said that Krad…loved Hiwatari-kun…in _that_ way…maybe it was true. Maybe…Daisuke had been wrong this whole time: that Krad _had_ changed, _did_ want a new relationship with his Tamer, _did _want Hiwatari-kun…to be happy…

Happy?

How in the world could Hiwatari-kun be _happy_…like _this_? How could he ever have _any _sort of relationship beyond host/curse…with _Krad_?

"No!" Daisuke snapped, suddenly regaining his senses, and Krad glared through Satoshi's cold blue eyes. "I won't let that—it's just…_wrong_! To treat Hiwatari-kun like that! You…him…how _could _you? Don't you understand…how _cruel_ that kind of relationship between you two would be?"

Krad pulled back, astonished that this Niwa was speaking to him in such a manner. Instead of addressing the subject Krad had come to speak of, Daisuke had apparently decided _this_ merited attention first. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"All this time…you've just been playing with him! Everything you've been doing that rubbed me the wrong way, your stupid compromise, that night out in your body, and that display during gym! You—do you have any _idea_ what you're leading him to think?" Krad opened his mouth to respond, but Daisuke took the liberty to answer for him.

"That you two could _possibly_ have any sort of relationship! You're his _curse_! You're not even real! You keep saying how well you know him, how he's the most important thing to you—well look what you've done! Obviously you don't know that Hiwatari-kun…he'll take it seriously!

"You…if you really love him…" Daisuke lowered his head, "then he'll notice it before long, if he hasn't already… And he'll believe you, and—after seeing how he's acted lately, he'll return those feelings." His gaze darkened, "Then what'll you do?

"There's a saying, 'It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'…but what about experiencing a love that could never have been in the first place? Isn't that…the cruelest joke of all?"

Krad stood silently and stared at Daisuke for a moment, unsure of what face to make, then opted to instead pace the room as he gathered his thoughts. "You seem fond of analogies, little Wing Master…let me offer you a new one. There once was a sculptor…in ancient Greece. His name was Pygmalion. He was an artist among artists; I dare even propose that he may have been an ancestor of our Hikari line, so skilled was his hand. And as most of our profession are, he was quite withdrawn, opting for marriage to his work rather than a woman of flesh and blood. This didn't stop him, though… He one day took up his mallet and chisel, and from a gleaming white block of marble…carved a most beautiful figure. And he fell in love with this figure, a love that he also thought could never be…

"But the goddess Aphrodite pitied the poor man and granted his stone maiden life." He smiled softly, a patronizing expression. "You see, love always finds a way."

Daisuke didn't rise to the bait, keeping his voice soft and level. "And where are your gods, Krad? The ones who will grant you life? A _real_ life? Get your head out of the clouds—tell me of even _one_ time when you could _touch_ Hiwatari-kun!

"You can't, can you? Because you never have. _Never_. You can't touch him, let alone hold him! So what'll you do on nights when he cries—because I _know_ he cries. I've seen it in his eyes, that lost, empty sadness. What will you do when that happens? Or do you think that just because you simply exist, all his problems will magically disappear? Hell, you _are_ half his problems!

"I haven't known Hiwatari-kun for very long, I admit. You've one-upped me in that area, but I know at least that what you want will only hurt him. I…I don't love him like you do…but I _do_ love him. As a friend—a friend I don't want to see hurt."

Krad narrowed Satoshi's eyes viciously and spat, "But little Wing Master, don't you realize…that by your very words you hurt him more than I _ever_ could?"

"At least…" the Niwa boy replied coolly, "I never gave him false hope of something that could never be. At least I've always been _honest_." Krad looked away now, frowning in the darkness. "I didn't lead him on, I let him get over me—and you want to bring it all back! Can't you just…leave him _alone_? Let him live his _own_ life the way he wants. You hate me, I accept that—but I'm not your Tamer! I don't care what you try with me, but you have _such power_ over him! You can hurt him…so much!

"You always…only hurt him… Wouldn't it just be so much better…if you weren't with him anymore?"

_Aphrodite is dead_

"If you truly love him, then shouldn't you do what's best for him? Even if he doesn't want it? Even if _you_ don't want it? _You're_ the curse, _you're_ the one who's not supposed to be here. If I were you…I'd give it some serious thought." Daisuke sighed and walked back over to the window, pulling the latch and lifting it open. "But what do I know? After all, I'm just a stupid Niwa." His gaze hardened. "Get out. Give Hiwatari-kun back his body as soon as you get back to his apartment, and never take it without his consent again. You have your own form; don't hide behind his face in front of me ever again."

Smiling softly, Krad stood and shoved his hands into his pockets, wings folding close as he stepped outside. "That, Wing Master…is one thing I believe I can consent to. Good night."

In a shower of feathers, he was gone.

* * *

Daisuke glanced at his clock—nearly four in the morning now. He was surprised their talk hadn't roused any other members of his household but reasoned that Krad had probably placed some sort of barrier around his room so they wouldn't be disturbed.

'_Got it in one_…_you're getting pretty good at this kaitou business, Dai_…_'_

Daisuke blushed lightly at the compliment, "Well, I _do_ have a pretty good teacher, after all." He could sense the thief inside his mind swelling with pride, and added, "Mom's been preparing for this for a while, after all." Immediately he felt the pride burst like a popped balloon and couldn't help the snicker that forced itself over his lips, "Kidding! Kidding!"

He shut the window back and latched it securely, drawing the curtains and plunging the room into near-darkness. Marching back over to his bed, he hopped back in and snuggled underneath the covers, resolved to speak to Hiwatari-kun the next day at school to discuss…well, something. He didn't really know how much he would feel comfortable speaking to the other boy about. Krad would most likely kill him despite Satoshi's protests if Daisuke dared breathe a word about the blonde's feelings toward his host.

Still…Krad and love. It just didn't _fit_! The emotions that had flashed across that face when Daisuke had spoken those words were enough to convince him that the blonde was in earnest, further supported by Dark's realization and belief. Daisuke shook his head…it was ludicrous how different Krad was now from when they'd first met.

He'd actually stooped to asking a Niwa for help—his sworn enemy! Had even sought to use that same Niwa as a replacement for himself in a position Krad had fought so long to attain in Satoshi's life. It was almost like…

Redemption. For murdering Satoshi's adopted father. That was the only conclusion Daisuke could draw: He'd killed Hiwatari Kei—for some reason the Niwa clan still couldn't fathom—and now thought he could rectify the situation by offering Daisuke's love to his Tamer.

'…_Close_…_but not quite, Dai_…_'_

"You're still awake?" The Niwa boy had been sure that his thief would be out like a light by now, attributing his earlier comment to a simple moment of consciousness between dreams or something. "So…what do you think? Still sure that…well, that Krad really…?"

Dark paused a moment, then returned brusquely, _'I already told you what I thought.'_

Flushing lightly in embarrassment, Daisuke returned, "I—I know, but I just…I guess I was kinda curious… You know Krad better than me, after all."

'_So in short, you want to know_…_what would make a curse forget his duty, abandon his post as clan protector_…_simply for the love of his Tamer?'_

"I…what?"

Dark wisely changed topics. _'He'd do it, you know.'_

"Who—what? Who would?"

'_Krad_…_you tell me I know him_…_and I'm telling you he'd do it.'_

Swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat, Daisuke pressed, "Do…what?"

'…_Seal himself.'_

Daisuke blinked—that hadn't been what he was expecting to hear—then smiled softly, "No…I just suggested that. He'd never listen to a Niwa; it'd hurt his pride too much. Even Hiwatari-kun's not as important as Krad's pride."

'…_I think you've got it backwards, Dai_…_'_

"What?"

'_You know, if he did Seal himself_…_'_

"If he did…then what?"

A deep pause. _'_…_I'd be gone too.'_

The pause persisted, neither speaking again, though from the boy's erratic brainwaves Dark could tell he was still trying to convince himself that Krad would never listen to him and that Dark had nothing to worry about. After fifteen minutes or so, the waves slowed and calmed, and it seemed Daisuke had reached some conclusion and won himself over.

Dark, however, couldn't brush the evening's events off so easily. He'd seen that look in Krad's eyes, even through the Satoshi-mask he wore. He'd not missed that stalwart resoluteness that so signified a Hikari—fight to the death, perish with one's sword in one's hand. He _knew_ how impossible Krad would be to deal with once he got a notion in his head, and for the first time in this tenth incarnation…he was actually disappointed in his Tamer.

That Daisuke could be so blind, so cold, so uncaring and unthinking as to suggest an actual Seal…it shook the kaitou to his very core. He _did_ know Krad, Daisuke understood that much.

And that meant he knew what Krad meant to do.

The blonde would take Daisuke's words to heart—_would_ seriously think over them, despite what the boy believed. Krad would think, consider, conclude…and Dark couldn't do a damn thing to stop him.

The ultimate weapon: one they could use against each other just as effectively as it could be used against them—the _Seal_. The consummation of their battles, intended to _never_ be used and yet always threatening them. It was simply that Krad would never give his own consent, and neither would Dark's Tamer, so both Hikari and Niwa clans were kept from using the spell, from putting an end to the feud.

Until now.

Daisuke had tipped the scales—had given Krad reason to cave. Given Krad _reason_ to consider that spell that was never spoken of…

And yes, Dark was frightened. More scared than he'd ever been before. More scared than he'd been on that rooftop with Niwa Ryuichi, more scared than he'd been when Daisuke had nearly melded minds with Hiwatari…

More scared than ever…because this time there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it.

* * *

As soon as Krad reached the apartment, he shuttled Satoshi's body back to bed, being sure to cover it up well against the cool spring night, then released his hold over the neural connectors, letting his Tamer slowly fall into a sleep cycle.

It was absurd. He phased into astral form and began pacing like a caged lion, casting a glance every now and then over to the sleeping boy, brows knit in concern. There was _no way_ a Niwa could be that intuitive, could touch that closely to the truth. Niwa Daisuke was too entangled in the clan war to be able to offer unbiased help.

And yet…Krad had gone anyway, hadn't he? _Krad_ had been the one to seek the boy out, to ask him to return his Satoshi-sama's feelings, hadn't he?

"_Wouldn't it just be better_…_if you weren't with him anymore?"_

He wanted to laugh. And cry. Scream and rage and drop off into deep slumber.

'_And just how might you have responded to that question, Satoshi-sama?'_ he queried of the sleeping form before him, reaching out to brush away a hair he couldn't touch. _'Would you have run away like I did?' _A pause.

'_No, you most certainly would not. You would never back away from that boy, never be run off. Yet I don't dare conjecture how you would have responded_…

'_Do you still hate me?'_

There was, of course, no response still. _'I wonder, do you even appreciate how serious I am? That when I say I'd do anything for you, I mean it? Do you realize that now_…_there is nothing more important to me than keeping you safe, happy? _

'_Do you understand_…_what kind of sacrifice that is for me? _

'_What kind of sacrifice_…_I'm going to make, just for you?'_

Much as it pained him to admit it, Niwa Daisuke was right—for once in this incarnation, the brat actually had exhibited some insight. It _was_ cruel to make Satoshi put up with him, to hope for any sort of requited love. And it would be even crueler to force the boy to endure his advances any longer. Satoshi wanted no part in this war—so be it.

Krad would end it.

'_I do hope you've said your goodbyes to your Niwa, Dark_…_'_

* * *

'_Isn't it about time, Satoshi-sama?'_

"Time?" He splashed a bit of water on his face the following morning, then reached for a towel to mop himself dry. "Time for what?" Dark hadn't sent out another notice, had he?

'_Time_…_to kill the Niwa boy, of course.'_

Satoshi stared, dumbstruck, at his reflection in the mirror, letting the towel he'd been using to dry his face fall away slowly. "_What_ did you just say?"

'_Don't pretend you misunderstood me, Satoshi-sama. With yesterday's fight_…_you've successfully broken all your ties with that Niwa boy, and there's no reason for you to neglect your duty any longer. I've tolerated it this far in the hopes that my interference in breaking you two up would not be needed—and it seems I was correct in that hope.'_

"Duty, duty—what the _hell_ are you talking about!" This was completely unlike Krad, and his cold words were eerily reminiscent of what he'd come to dub the "old Krad." "I'm not—I'm not _killing_ any Niwa, least of all Daisuke!" He glared daggers into the mirror at the being locked behind his eyes, and turned away in disgust, tossing the towel to the floor as he stormed off into his bedroom and sank onto the bed.

'_Deny it all you like—'_ Krad slipped into astral form and stared down at the body slumped on the mattress, his arms crossed disdainfully over his chest, _'—but you cannot run from the Hikari family any longer. Haven't my actions of late gotten through to you? Being of our line isn't all bad, you know. And had you even a modicum of sense you'd realize that that plebeian Niwa line doesn't even deserve the title of "rival" to us. Really—killing that boy will almost be a blessing, he's so_…_apathetic_…_doesn't even acknowledge that he has an enemy in you_…_'_

Krad was actually…_serious_! "That's because he's not _you_! _He_ doesn't blindly accept fate! _He_ makes his own! He's a Niwa, yet he paints as well as any Hikari—he's a kaitou, yet all his ideas are his own! If he can change his destiny as a Niwa, why can't I change _mine_!"

'_Because—!'_ Krad's voice took on a tone that was equivalent to a slap in the face, and Satoshi actually scooted back a bit at the snappish shout. _'Because you're better than him! Your destiny doesn't need to be changed—it's already enviable! You are a masterful Hikari, Satoshi-sama! Last of a line of artists descended from the Renaissance masters, and even further back! And the Niwas wish to take that from you, that pride. Are you telling me you're going to let them do that!'_

"I just—I don't want anything to do with this line anymore! No more battles, no more rivalries, no more Hikaris and Niwas—I just want to be _normal_!"

'_But Satoshi-sama_…_normal doesn't suit you, you know?' _The boy narrowed his eyes, and Krad bent down to stare straight at him at eyelevel. _'Are you trying to tell me that all this time my efforts to draw you nearer have been in vain?'_

"Draw me…nearer? What're you…?"

'_This! All this!'_ The blonde extended a hand out to encompass the room, their living situation, _'You and I—you can't deny we've been on better terms of late than ever before. For what other purpose would I possibly try and strengthen our bond than to build up your power to fight the Niwa boy and Dark without my interference?'_

Satoshi stood abruptly and clenched his fists in disbelief, "You—were—_baiting_ me! This was all…"

'_To separate you and the Wing Master, of course,'_ he remarked, as if it should have been the most obvious observation in the world, _'It makes the killing all the easier, when there is no connection between the two. Hosts before you have learned that well enough. And then by building up our own relationship—'_

"Th—_that's_ why you…all this time…" His brows furrowed pathetically and his gaze fell to the floor as he bit his lip in frustration

A sharp laugh interrupted his thoughts, and he heard the most horrible words the blonde had yet to utter drift to his ears:

'_Wh—what? You thought_…_you thought I was actually—actually falling for you? That I desired you in any way beyond your body! You really thought that I cared for you even remotely beyond your physical self, didn't you!'_ It looked as if it was taking all his self-control to keep himself from collapsing into fits of laughter at the ludicrousness of the realization.

Clapping hands over his ears to try and drown out the grating laughter, Satoshi doubled over and balanced on his heels, rocking on the floor. "You…you…_used_ me…my em—emotions…"

'_That's what I do, Satoshi-sama. Use you, if you won't do it yourself. I had to cut off your ties with everyone, because you weren't going to on your own. Hiwatari, those fools you used to work with at the police station, and most of all—Niwa Daisuke.'_

"But—but, _Kosuke_! You let me…let me talk to him…!"

'_That Niwa man's "talks" were actually fortuitous—they served their unintentional purpose well enough. Actually made you think of something else besides the Wing Master all the time—and even better was the fact that you often thought of me. Hah! I could not have planned that part better myself, I do believe.' _

"No…no, you…lied…always?"

'_Virtually.'_

"Never…for any other reason…?"

'_Nothing is more important to me than restoring Hikari honor. Least of all petty human emotions like love. If you want to indulge in that, it's your decision—feel free to attempt it with something or someone a bit more transient than me, though. And do it after you kill Dark's Tamer.'_

He shook his head fiercely, still staring at the ground with his hands clamped over his ears, and his voice cracked in pent-up anger, making it evident that he was on the verge of tears. "I'm not—killing Niwa! You can't ask me, and you can't make me!"

'_Oh, can't I?'_

"You _can't_!" His eyes shot up, quivering and puffy, and he sniffed loudly, "I _refuse_ to let you this time! Never again—I'll never let you hurt him—_kuso_!" He slammed a fist into the floor and heard something crack inside the hand.

Lies lies lies…always more lies…He'd given himself over, just like before, to the thrilling, enticing _lies_ that Krad carried around like little treats to pull his Tamer in closer and closer.

His comforting words which flowed forth so profusely when he most needed them…the constant presence that was at once curiously annoying and reassuring, letting him know that Krad, at least, would never leave him or abandon him, would never change if Satoshi didn't want him to…

The voice that hissed like fire, enveloping his senses through and through, curling up around him like a constrictor…and he'd _wanted_ it…

He'd _let_ himself be taken, _let_ himself be tricked and deceived…He'd welcomed the isolation Krad had drawn him into—isolation from friends, from family, from all but the demonic curse himself—because…he _wanted_ to be _wanted_.

Had wanted to think that maybe…just maybe…there was life beyond Niwa, warmth that could be experienced without the redhead, comfort…that could exist inside his own mind. And so he had accepted, eventually, that perhaps Krad truly had the best of intentions—that his little episodes of seeming to care were not feigned, but real, real reflections of a changed being.

And he had…_liked_ it…would even go so far as to say…_he had loved it_. Had wanted to never be separated from this new feeling, this emotion welling up in his center that came when an astral smile rippled across Krad's image—a smile worn for his Tamer to see and to enjoy and to reflect back at the blonde, a _real_ one.

"_Let me never lack the chance to see that again_…_"_ he could have easily requested to no one, so enthralled was he by this change that had swept over him, completely overpowering his senses like a great swell in an ocean storm. Except he _could_ have resisted, if he'd wanted to—he could have tried to have seen the ploy for what it really was. A plot to win his affection, to win his heart, as a prize in some petty contest of wits and deviousness.

For if Satoshi would grow to love his own curse, then he would deny that same curse _nothing_.

All his life, from the moment he'd been able to comprehend the order, he'd been taught to kill his heart—to let no emotion seep through. For a dead heart cannot be molded, cannot be twisted and taken for personal usage, and now look!

Daisuke…he had been so gentle with Satoshi's heart, he remembered… Always gentle, always kind, always always _always_ a Niwa…warm, bearing, forgiving…

But Krad was like a rusty knife caught by hooks that twisted and turned inside his heart, ripping and tearing the tender flesh and yanking out chunks of the boy's very soul as he uprooted himself from the place of honor he'd attained in his Tamer's life now.

A web so carefully and skillfully weaved…that he'd been caught completely unawares.

"Get. Out. _Now_."

'_Out? Surely you jest, Satoshi-sama. Peeved as you may be at this point for being deceived, never forget that it was your own foolishness that led you this far. If you'd simply complied with my requests from the start I never would have dragged you this far, and it would all be long over by now.'_

"Just—_shut up_! Don't talk to me—anymore! I never would have, nor will I ever, agree to kill Niwa! You never had a chance of gaining _that_ power over me!"

'_Oh but I think I did—and that's precisely why you're getting so angry now, isn't it?' _That same perverse laugh again echoed in Satoshi's skull, _'To think that I'd stoop to loving a human with my makers' pride at stake—really, you can't seriously have thought that, could you?'_

"But I…I…"

'_Did? And I thought you were one of the brighter ones_… _Ah well, I suppose I was wrong on that one aspect_…_'_

He should have known it, should have known it from the start: there was no reason for Krad to start cooperating with him, he could take Satoshi's body whenever he wanted, could kill Dark or let him go, whatever his whim was, and the Hikari child could have done nothing to stop him—so _why_ make the pact, _why_ make the agreement with his Tamer?

Simply to strengthen their bond…simply to gain more power over him…

"No…" The voice had less of a quiver now, and he eased himself back upright, letting his hands fall back to his sides as he stared up at his curse with a new determination, "No…_you_ were the stupid one if you thought that you ever had a chance to draw me _that_ close to attain your goal. And you were even _stupider_ to have just thrown it all away—any chance you might have had at keeping me near." He laughed harshly, "You've just shown your hand, and have lost me. You lose, Krad."

The smirk faded in brilliance from the blonde's face, but wasn't entirely lost yet, _'This battle over asking you to kill Niwa of your own volition_…_I will concede that I have lost it. But—'_ He raised a hand to stop any interruptions which might have followed, _'I do not need your permission to finish this long war. I suppose I will once again have to take matters into my own hands.'_ A light shrug, _'It can't be helped.'_

He closed his golden eyes in concentration, and Satoshi had but a moment to comprehend what he was trying to do—not nearly enough time to try and prevent the inevitable.

With a pitiable cry he sank down to his knees and clutched his chest, crying out as if Krad's knife had been suddenly ripped from his heart with no warning at all. Deep in his chest the familiar clenching of muscles assaulted his nerve endings, like being caught in a red-hot clamp that at once burned and crushed him.

The pain ebbed away for a few seconds before attacking anew inside his head, and a throbbing erupted from his skull that felt as if Krad were actually trying to physically break out, slashing at the walls and chains binding him with the invisible knife he'd just plucked from Satoshi's heart.

'_Is it painful, Satoshi-sama? You can make it stop by yielding to me, you know.'_

Amazingly the blue-haired boy managed to find a scratchy voice, though it was dotted with bouts of coughing, "I'm n-not…yielding…anything…to you…least of all…my body…"

Krad shook his head in mirth and countered in a sickeningly sweet sing-song voice, _'I'm sure that's not what you would have said just yesterday_… _You really actually were falling for a being you couldn't even touch weren't you? Pathetic_…_that you'd be that desperate_…_'_

From his spot crumpled on the floor, still clutching his chest like a heart-attack victim, he wheezed back, "You played…with my emotions…I was just…another game…to you…"

Just…another…game?

Golden eyes vacillated uncertainly from reflecting a mocking smile to a forgiveness-seeking frown. For deep inside the astral makeup in what might have been a heart, given time to flourish with the right person, Krad shuddered unconsciously. He was pulling this off too well, it seemed…Satoshi was already tumbling back down the hill the two had worked so tirelessly to scale—back to square one…back to hatred.

'_Quite—but it was such an enjoyable game, I will admit.' _No, no…it was never a game, Satoshi-sama…I swear it…I did love…

"You were laughing at me, _always_…watching me fall…"

'_As I said—it was such an enjoyable game.'_ I wanted to catch you…I wanted to…_wanted_ to…

"It was all…_a lie_…"

'_And nothing but.' Anything _but…please…believe me…

Satoshi paused—he had heard everything he needed to understand that he'd been fooled, tricked, played with, and so he said the words that hadn't touched his lips in so long that they actually felt very foreign, bitter. But he was well used to the unpleasant sensation of crushing hopes—and of having them crushed:

"I _hate_ you…"

'_Yes, you hate me so much_…_'_ And yet…I still love you…

"I _hate you_!" His voice rose in volume, and the tears returned to his eyes. "_Dammit_, I hate you, _Krad_! _I hate you_!"

'_But not nearly as much as you almost loved me, right?'_ I'm so sorry…but it will hurt less this way, I promise…

"I could _never_ feel more strongly about you than this! _Never_! You—conniving _bastard_!" His hands curled into fists again, and it looked as if he was just barely holding himself back from lunging forward and taking a swipe at the image—only held at bay by the knowledge that such an action would only make his curse smile even more at the futility of it all.

'_My my_…_such words_… _It seems as if you're a little angry at me_…_'_ He leaned forward and settled his hands on his hips, cocking his blonde head to the side in a querying manner.

'_You would love it if I were somehow sealed, would you not?'_ The crux of his argument, and it didn't take Satoshi a moment to even blink before he spat out his acid laden response to the question, fury mingling with betrayal.

"_Yes_—and may you rot in whatever eternity in Hell accompanies it."

Krad pulled back, closed his eyes, and muttered a soft, _'_…_Thank you_…_'_ before concentrating one final time and banishing his beloved Tamer to the darkness of unconsciousness, never to lay eyes on the boy again.

'…_Forgive me_…_Satoshi-sama_…_'_

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ SO sorry about the long time between last update—almost a week and a half! But blame the site; it didn't seem all that inclined to let me keep to our regular schedule. Anyways, I'll update from now on, I suppose on Tuesday evenings, so get ready for mid-week delight. Or, well, I don't suppose that'll last long, as next chapter's the last! Well, there is a litle epilogue too, but next one will end it. Enjoy! Next week: no spoilers this time, haha, suffice to say I look forward to reactions. 


	17. Verbum Domitoris Domitique Voluntas

_Galatea_

_Final Movement: Verbum Domitoris Domitique Voluntas  
_"_Word of the Tamer, Will of the Tamed"  
_

"To gain that which is worth having,  
it may be necessary to lose everything else."

_Bernadette Devlin_

* * *

"_Hikari Krad sum! Trecentos annos in hoc mundo incessi, trecentos annos vivi_…" 

Satoshi stirred to life, immediately confronted with the eerie and yet all-too-familiar sensation of being trapped in an astral bubble in the back of his curse's mind. He remembered this feeling, knew what it meant—that control over his body had been wrested, once again, from his grasp. Krad had physical form now, but where…

"_Ego, Hikari Krad, Astralis compositionis factus, nec mortalem caronem, nec pecattum vitiumque habens!_"

As his mind cleared with his rousing from the unnatural slumber he'd been forced into by his curse—just how long _had_ he been out? This certainly wasn't his apartment—the events of the last time he'd spoken with Krad began to flood his memory once more.

"_Ego, Hikari Krad, e Koku Yoku, ex Arte natus; perfectio genus meum est!_"

Their fight—Krad had betrayed him. _Again_. Satoshi had no idea what had possessed the blonde to even show his hand; it was just proving Niwa right!

_Dammit_…Niwa _had_ been right! The redhead hadn't been fooled by Krad's false advances, had seen through his plots and ploys—seen that Satoshi was falling deeper and deeper, couldn't help but be drawn in by his own curse's hypnotic ways…

"_Ego, Hikari Krad, inter numina beatus, trecentos annos harum voluntatem executus sum!_"

Wait…those _words_…

Someone was speaking…someone…in the physical plane. He could sense them clearly now—someone, a male…a clear voice ringing, echoing a long-dead language off the walls of…wherever he was.

'…_Just what the hell do you think you're doing?' _

Krad grimaced, though his Tamer couldn't see it, and silently cursed himself for not remembering to keep a tighter seal on the sleep spell he'd placed on the boy. He should've known that Satoshi's latent astral powers were strong enough to dispel the incantation if Krad didn't put some force into it.

Or perhaps that hadn't been the reason—perhaps he _had_, unconsciously, neglected the spell, hoping deep down that his precious host would rouse early and order him to stop this foolishness…

Even if he had absolutely no intention of listening.

'_Answer me! What are you doing? Another spell, is it? You never learn!'_

Swallowing, Krad continued his chant—he couldn't interrupt the incantation to speak to the boy, either to allay any fears or offer even so much as a farewell.

"_Verbo domitoris domitique voluntate, omnibus deis qui magicis artibus imperant—hoc incantamentum signandi invoco!_"

'_You—I asked you what you were doing! Tell me, dammit!'_

Ask and ye shall receive, wasn't that how the saying went?

All at once, a wave of understanding washed over his mindscape, sheltering his astral presence in a soft, warm blanket of gold. Krad's voice now echoed in his own consciousness as well as off the cold—stone?—walls, yet somehow he could understand _these_ words.

/By the word of the Tamer and the will of the Tamed, by all the fair deities who govern magic—I invoke this spell of Sealing/

The comprehension was eerily reminiscent of their synchronization not long before. Almost immediately the warm blanket dissipated, and Satoshi was left with the cold words echoing in his mind.

_Sealing_?

'_Oh, that's rich! A Sealing spell? Is this your "taking matters into your own hands," then? You actually think you can use something like that to take down Dark? You really are an idiot—seal away one and the other half is gone as well! Ah_…_'_ Satoshi paused and considered this for a moment, and a decidedly fiendish tone crept into his mental voice. _'On second thought, no_…_please, continue.' _

"_Potestatem mihi concede, Astral, quia egeo!_"

/Grant me your power, Astral, for I have need of it/

"_Hospitalitatem mihi concede, Koku Yoku, quia volo!_"

/Grant me your hospitality, Koku Yoku, for I desire it/

"_Benedictionem mihi concedite, numena, quia sine hac efferri non potest._"

/Bestow upon me your blessing, Divinities, for this cannot be carried out without it/

Had Satoshi solid form, he would no doubt have been rolling about on the ground, shaking with laughter. Krad—_his _Krad—was actually resorting to _magic_ to get the thief! Surely he'd tried this before, right? Or did somewhere inside the monster's mind lurk some sort of conscience that he'd finally overcome? Using magic unrelated to Krad's pure astral makeup seemed like admitting he was too weak to best Dark otherwise—and vice versa.

'_Louder, Krad! I can't quite hear you!' _he laughed, and was not disappointed.

"_Verbum domitoris domitique voluntas; Astral, Nigrae Alae, Divinique: invocationes antiquas audite! Quod iubeo observate!_"

/Word of the Tamer, Will of the Tamed; Astral, Black Wings, and beings Divine: hear these ancient invocations! Heed what I command/

'_Then hurry up with your stupid command, already! Gods,' _he chortled, _'I've never heard an invocation so long-winded!'_

Inside, the boy was waging a minor mental battle—half of him wanted to slip into the astral form his curse had taught him and watch what might be his last moments burdened with the creature from a front-row seat. The other, more proud half, argued that this would be taking advantage of something that same creature had taught him. It would be like being caught enjoying a gift from someone he hated.

In the end, he couldn't help himself, and caved. He shimmered into existence, and his aura spiked brightly in the darkened room, casting a ghostly pallor on the smooth skin of the curse he now watched with manic glee. Krad spared him a glance, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, and Satoshi merely waved him off. _'Oh no, don't mind me. Please, continue with that lovely spell. Were you at all near being done?'_ His voice took on a hopeful tone at the end, and the blonde turned away, closing his eyes in concentration.

"_Perinde ac dies noctem fiat et aestas ipsa gelabat, sic omnia unde venirent redibunt. Perinde ac stellae aurorae et glacies flammae cedunt, sic omnia a fato singulari ligantur._"

/As day shall become night and as summer itself shall freeze, all things shall return to whence they came. As stars yield to the dawn and ice to the flame, so are all things bound by singular fate/

Something pricked his senses though…something diluting the glee he felt at finally being able to be rid of this curse who'd made his fourteenth year a living hell… _Worry_.

_Why_ was Krad doing this? Satoshi tried to brush off the annoying little voice that asked him this, but it was to no avail. Why would he resort to such means to be rid of Dark? Wasn't the point of trying to _kill_ the thief to allow Krad himself to live on, unburdened by his other half? If the blonde sealed himself to get to Dark…didn't that defeat the purpose?

Well—what did it matter, then? For all Satoshi knew, perhaps Krad hadn't even considered this! So who was _he_ to remind him?

"_In perpetuum, sic fuit! In perpetuum, sic erit!_"

/For all eternity, so it has been! For all eternity, so it shall be/

Satoshi wrung his hands silently, unconsciously licking his lips—mustn't appear to eager, no… He'd somehow successfully silenced that little voice in his head that asked, "_Why_?" and was once more able to enjoy the sight of his curse wiping both his enemy and himself from existence.

"_Verbum Domitoris imperabit; Domiti Voluntas parebit!_"

/Word of the Tamer shall command; Will of the Tamed shall obey/

The boy had just begun contemplating how wonderful his life would be without Krad in it when the force of his words began to sink in.

_Word of the Tamer_…_Will of the Tamed_…

Was Krad talking about…_permission_? Permission to perform this spell—Satoshi had given it? But…_when_ had he ever given his once again hated curse permission to seal away Da—

Their fight. _'You would love it if I were somehow sealed, would you not?' _Krad had asked, in that frustratingly patronizing tone, and he'd shot back his vicious affirmative retort before even pondering why the blonde would pose a question with such an obvious answer at that moment.

…He hadn't granted Krad permission to seal Dark…

…He'd granted him permission to seal _himself_…

"_Astral extrahit, Astral accipit: ad locum unde veni redibo!_"

/The Astral draws forth, the Astral receiveth: I shall return to the place from which I came/

What did that fact change, though? Nothing! It was simply—simply a further demonstration of Krad's conniving ways! Of course he knew that Satoshi would never grant him permission to Seal Dark, even if doing so would Seal Krad himself as well. It was an underhanded deed, and the Hikari boy refused to sink to such a level. Giving his curse permission to carry out such a thing on himself, though…was another issue altogether.

How convenient, then, that the blonde had revealed his true colors just in time to have this consent granted…

Damn, that little voice was back, making him question this whole affair again.

"_Numena lacrimam fundunt; mortales sanguinem fundunt: et ego ad mortem perveniam!_"

/The Divinites shed a tear; the mortals shed their blood: I, too, shall come to death/

'_Not soon enough!'_ Satoshi laughed, doing his very best to drown out the niggling worries flitting about his mind. _'Must you be so dramatic in everything—even your own Sealing!'_

Golden eyes flicked open, turning a frightened gaze towards the smirking boy—he'd been found out! Satoshi-sama had read his intentions! But…

Krad's heart slowed its furious pace—no, no…the boy hadn't read him _completely_. He still suspected that this entire affair was some complex plot on his curse's part. Good…let him _keep_ thinking as such…

"_Omnes divini! Dimidia pars vos invocat! Astralis potestate, Nigrae Alae auxilio, numenum benedictione_…"

/All beings divine! The Half invokes thee! With the power of the Astral, with the help of Black Wings, with the Blessing of the Divinities.../

There was no turning back…

"_Hikari Krad, tuum signandum invoco!_"

Spare me but one more glance, won't you, Satoshi-sama?

"_Hikari Krad, tuum signandum invoco!_"

Will you grant me a final farewell, at the very least?

'_Do it_…_'_ was the reply, a cold and yet still impassioned hiss, _'Seal yourself! DO IT!'_

…As you wish, Satoshi-sama. I could never refuse you that which you desire so fervently.

"_Hikari Krad, tuum signandum invoco!_"

/Hikari Krad, I invoke your sealing/

And their world erupted into dark flame.

I love you, Satoshi

* * *

"_Ne, Satoshi-sama, do you still hate me?"_

Who…whose voice…?

"No words…express the depth of this emotion, human…" 

_Krad_'s voice…? But—why was _he_ here! And…where was _here_?

"_You love him, Krad."_

Niwa Kosuke's voice, now! But…Satoshi was sure he'd never heard such words as _those_ from the man's lips. He'd never had such a conversation with Kosuke—he'd _remember_ that!

"_If you will let me, I will give_…_give my power to heal your astral wounds, to replenish your threads—please, Satoshi-sama! I_…_I want to_…_"_

Krad again—dammit, even in death he couldn't escape his curse! Wait…_was_ he dead? Was this Heaven, or Hell? This dark void of nothing that stretched for eternity, haunting him with voices and words that were familiar but _not his_…surely this was Hell…

"_Krad_…_loves Hiwatari-kun?"_

Niwa Daisuke! It seemed only fitting that the redhead would show up in Satoshi's private Hell to further torment him. What pity Niwa couldn't drench him in while alive, he obviously resolved to do in death. And what nonsense was he babbling about now? Krad, loving _him_? True, he might have believed such a notion before their falling out, but now—

"_I love you, Satoshi."_

No…no, _stop it_! He didn't _want _to hear such falsely gentle words from the lips of one he'd resolved to hate forever now.

"_I know_…_I know you don't want to hear that, but I do, and so I cannot help but tell you. Though that I should do so now_…_when it matters least_…_ I suppose such is my curse."_

You _deserved _it! If any living being deserved to be Sealed away forever in a cold, dark tomb, never to know love, then _dammit_,_ it was you_!

"_You're absolutely right. And you've every reason to be angry. Go on. Let it out. Rage at me, as I no doubt deserve such antipathy."_

I _hate_ you! No—hate is too benign a term! Loathe, despise, revile your very existence! The day I was born was the worst day of my just-begun life, and it's only gone downhill from there. It's _all your fault_! No family, no friends, _no one to love_! Because of _you_!

"_And it killed me to discover that, you know. When I began to consider your feelings_…_have you any idea the pain it caused, knowing how I'd hurt you? Did you even realize that I resolved to never do such a thing again?"_

Then _why_! _Why_ did you betray me! _Why_ did you lead me on—were Niwa and Dark that important! You coddled me and refused me nothing and made me think that—

"_There was no trickery, love—"_

Don't you _dare_ call me that! Don't even presume that I want to hear that from someone like _you_.

"_Yes_…_of course. Forgive me for my presumptuous remark. But there was no trickery, you know. Except for_…_our last quarrel_…_"_

Oh that's right—your betraying me was simply telling me the _truth_ and getting us back on solid ground with one another!

"_Again_…_you've completely misunderstood_…_ I must apologize now, for_…_for everything I confessed about—about leading you on to make you kill the Niwa boy yourself_…_was all a lie. I held no such intentions then—nor have I held them for quite some time. It was_…_a distraction. A means to make you angry with me. And it seems to have worked beautifully."_

A…distraction…?

"_Was it not a most melodious spell, Satoshi-sama? I've never carried it out_…_but I have heard it attempted before. I say attempted, because, suffice to say, it's not a spell that can be carried out more than once. Permission from one half for the other to Seal himself_…_is not often granted. I had_…_reasons. Reasons for which I knew you'd not have willingly let me carry this out—"_

You…_reasons_? You told me all that about Niwa…

"_Yes_…_to goad you into rekindling your feelings of hatred towards me. I_…_I am sorry, Satoshi-sama_…_but there was no other way."_

No—but, everything you said…you _told_ me that you'd just…been playing me the whole time…

"_You had to hate me! Under what other circumstances would you have let me Seal myself!"_

I—that's not the _point_! _Why_! Why would you think you had to—

"_I'm afraid_…_I cannot tell you that, Satoshi-sama_…_ You would be_…_very angry with me, and you would ask things of me which I can no longer oblige you. So, it's for the better if—"_

I'm angry with you now, dammit! I still hate you—now it's just for a different reason!

"_And yet I still love you."_

Don't _say _that! Don't! If you keep saying that…I might start believing you…

"…_Satoshi-sama_…_"_

_What?_

"…_I have to go now_…_"_

_What? _Wh—but, _why_? _Where_?

"_Ah, so many questions, have you, love? Would that I had time and will to answer them_…_but you must go back now, and I must stay."_

Go? Go _where_? No! Wait!

"_The Niwa boy will be missing his Dark, no doubt. Offer him an ear, won't you? I know the thief was_…_more than a bit fond of him, and their broken bond will pain the child."_

No! I'm not going—back to—without—

"_I do love you, Satoshi-sama_… _Always, forever, know that I will_…_"_

I know! I—_please_… Don't do…what I think you're about to do…

"_You're free now. I absolve you of any guilt you may burden yourself with, so_…_please, go."_

_Don't_ ask me…to leave here…to leave _you_… Krad! Just—wait!

"_Goodbye, love."_

_Wait_…let me…let me say it! If not now, then never!

_One more moment, you Gods. Give me but one more moment!_

_Please_

* * *

Krad didn't know how much time passed after his entire world went black, sending his consciousness spiraling down into darkness, and it seemed all too soon that he stirred back to life, eyelids fluttering open softly like butterfly wings. His vision was blurred for but a moment before he registered that he was lying on his stomach on a cold hard surface—a floor, perhaps? 

His mind flickered frantically from thought to thought unable to focus on any one thing alone—who was he, where was he, when was he, why was he…

Wait—_Krad_…He was Krad, golden demon curse of the Hikari clan, and he had sealed himself only what felt like moments ago. His head ached something fierce, a dull throbbing that pounded like a bass drum from somewhere deep inside his skull, incessant and quite painful, but now was not the time to think of that—now was the time to figure out where he was.

With considerable effort he raised his head pathetically from the floor, golden locks tangling in his fingers as he struggled for purchase on the cold stone floor. After a moment, his muscles held firm, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position, legs folded underneath him off to the side. Massaging his temples, he permitted his eyes to cast about the room for any clue where he was—it seemed so familiar…

A high domed ceiling, an Astral pictogram still glowing on the floor, and the unmistakable towering black monolith still clanking its chains in the center beyond the circle…

"K—_Koku_…_Yoku_…!" His breath very nearly caught in his voice box, refusing to come out for the shock—why, _why_ was Koku Yoku here! Or rather, why was he here with Koku Yoku? The black wings…they should be no more—he and Dark should have been returned to their rightful place, sealed away forever! He should be—he should be—

But any further conjecturing on where he should have been was halted as he sensed something stirring to his right out of the corner of his eye. His head snapped to the side like a hawk, gaze focusing on a form huddled into a tiny ball on the floor. Had the sight of Koku Yoku taken his breath away, then _this_ sight returned it.

"Satoshi…_sama_…?" No…no, no this was _wrong_. Satoshi-sama couldn't be over there, he was here with Krad! Here in his—

Wait…he wasn't. No matter how frantically Krad called out in his head to the Tamer who _had_ to be in there, he received no answer—and not just a lack of an answer, but he couldn't feel _any_thing. No faint pressure that reminded him he was not alone, no twin brainwaves that reverberated along with his own, no phantom thoughts that weren't his floating over into his consciousness…No Satoshi-sama!

He was corporeal; he knew it—so that meant his host should have been locked away in his head now! He should feel the boy in there—but he _wasn't_. Satoshi-sama was—Satoshi-sama was…

Was…here? Did he dare approach this phantom figure and pray it was real? Could he handle his hopes being lifted so high only to have them sent smashing back to the cold harsh earth by reality? Or contrarily, could he handle brushing it off as a dream? Could he _not_ reach out, call out, somehow acknowledge this occurrence?

Too long, though, it seemed to take him to decide, for while he was still waging a mental battle with himself, the figure stirred to consciousness, almost perfectly mirroring the same regimen the blonde had just gone through. Slowly, thin arms posted on either side to push the wiry frame upright as he rubbed his head uncertainly, running trembling fingers through thin blue locks. And just as Krad had not missed the boy's form, so was the curse's presence not lost on Satoshi, who quickly noticed that he was not alone and turned confused blue eyes across the way.

The pupils dilated in shock, eyes nearly doubling in size, and he could almost hear the confused words spilling off of the lips now, _But_…_But how! _

Neither moved for another full minute, bodies refusing to answer to the mind's will that they step forward. Two hearts desperately wanted to believe this was real, but their logical thinking brains refused to be so conceding and fought giving into the hope with everything they could.

Krad was the first to get his body to obey him, slowly rising onto trembling legs that felt as if they were made of glass and would shatter into tiny pieces at any second, depriving him of the chance to take this wonderful step towards what he desperately wanted to believe was his precious host.

Satoshi, though, would not be outdone, and scrambled to his own feet—as far as he could scramble, that is; scrambling implied too much speed, and the Hikari boy could barely gather enough strength to hold himself upright, let alone stand up and walk straight ahead. He staggered forward a few steps, toddler-like, before his forward momentum got the better of his noodle-strength legs and he toppled onto his face a few yards from his curse.

Forgetting entirely that no matter how real they felt separately, _one_ of them was simply an astral image, Krad rushed forward with a burst of newfound strength and clasped his arms around the chest of the falling boy, wrapping him in a comforting embrace, fully prepared to soften the blow of his hitting the ground—until the last thing he would have expected to happen…_did_.

_He caught Satoshi_.

Sliding to his knees he crashed into the thin form of his host and clutched him around the chest, holding the boy close to keep him from falling again, and at the same time he struggled to find his voice, only offering a pathetic squeak every now and then as he processed the sensation.

Satoshi too was dumbfounded, except instead of trying to discern how this was happening he instinctively clutched the blonde closer, adopting a death grip around Krad's neck and burying his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, collapsing into sobs for which he could not voice the reason.

"Te—tell me you're real…_please_, lie to me, I don't care, but tell me…tell me I'm not dreaming, _tell me_ it's not an illusion…just _say it_… _Please_…" His voice was muffled by Krad's hair and robes as he pushed his face even further into the fabric, breathing in any scent he could catch as if committing it as proof of the validity of this encounter—catching that smell he would associate forever more with the blonde, something completely unworldly, ethereal, sidereal, completely _Krad_…

Krad felt the solid body clutched in his embrace begin to shake with soft sobs as his collar was saturated with tears that simply would not stop, and all he could think to do at that point was run his long fingers slowly across the back of the Hikari child's head, offering comforting ministrations as best he could and whispering to him to calm down.

Why, some distant part of Satoshi's mind wondered, was he reacting so emotionally to this? Forgetting for a moment that he shouldn't be able to touch Krad in the first place, what had changed his mind so quickly, when only a moment ago he'd have been first in line to spit in his curse's face as he breathed his last…and yet he was clinging so violently now…

Because at that instant, when Krad had said it to him, he _knew_…

"_I do love you, Satoshi-sama_… _Always, forever, know that I will_…_"_

And he knew then, would have known, even if their thoughts had not merged as one consciousness, would have known even if Krad's entire mind hadn't been lain before him like an open canvas to survey, like they were synchronized again, would have known…that none of that argument they'd had had been real. He'd have known, simply from those words, that he was loved, was needed, was wanted, and that he loved, needed, wanted—that he could not live without Krad and that he did not _want_ to live without Krad.

So thinking that this being he'd just realized he cared so deeply for would be gone, only to have his hopes reaffirmed and have Krad sent back to him—it was understandable that he should find himself here, clinging fiercely to the neck of his curse—_no_, to _Krad_. For the true curse would have been Krad disappearing, leaving Satoshi alone once more. This man had a name, was a living being with thoughts and feelings, here for him, to have, to hold, to love.

The hands on the back of his head fell away, and Satoshi sensed the chest beneath him pulling away to look him full in the face, but the Hikari boy was having none of that. "No! No—don't let go of me!" He tightened his grip on the body in his grasp to enforce the plea, "_Please_—don't let go of me! Not ever again!" His voice broke towards the end as his sobs penetrated his voice, leaving him to fight them back futilely now.

"Shh…_shh_…" a comforting tenor urged in a soft whisper, blowing over his ear as he disentangled himself from the boy's arms, bringing their faces together and resting their foreheads against each other to offer reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere. "I only wish to see this beautiful face I've been deprived of seeing for so long… Mirrors and astral visions do not do my Satoshi-sama justice…"

Face blushing an even deeper red, the boy frowned and turned his eyes away, "I don't—I'm not beautiful…I'm _crying_…like a little child…" He rubbed the back of his hand over one eye in an effort to straighten his face somewhat, but a gentle hand guided his gaze back upwards.

The boy _was_ a mess: tear-streaked face, completely flushed a tomato red hue, eyes red-rimmed, sniffling, coughing, frown breaking into smiles and returning to a frown, and yet, "You _are _beautiful…The most beautiful thing, now, that I have _ever_ seen…Never have I been so happy to be somewhere, seeing something, loving someone…as I am now…" He pressed his lips softly across the forehead now beading with sweat, and pulled the boy close again, who now relaxed into his embrace rather than trying to cling to the blonde like a life-raft.

"…Is it real?" was the whispered question which Satoshi hesitated to ask, fearful of the answer, and Krad didn't feel he could offer anything solid in return either.

"I…I don't know…" A deep sigh, "What if it is…?"

The boy tightened his grip again, as if pressing in the statement, and shook his head. "I never…_never_ want to _not_ feel this again…_ever_…" the soft raspy voice hissed, offering a tiny hiccup as Satoshi repressed another sob.

"Then perhaps…" Krad intoned, sensing the impending and altogether unavoidable lecture he was soon to undergo, "…We should take a walk now…I do believe we have some things to talk about."

* * *

They wandered along with seemingly no purpose or ultimate goal for some time—though it seemed none passed. Indeed, though the sun was high in the sky and any welcome breeze absent, it appeared to have no effect on the temperature, a constant balmy "room temperature" that never changed. They were completely alone as they ambled along the sidewalk, with a park bordering them on the left and a downtown street—devoid of cars—on their right. Satoshi was the one who took the initiative to slow down near a bench and suggest that they sit. 

"I think…we need to talk…"

Krad nodded down at him, and complied easily, sliding down beside the boy into a stone bench, careful to keep his immaculate white robe from dragging the ground.

Satoshi scooted back onto the bench beside the blonde, leaning forward slightly as he rested his palms on the edge of the seat between his legs, adopting a posture that likened him to a child waiting impatiently for a friend on a park date.

To his side, Krad—well accustomed to adopting an elegant stance—now abandoned it to relax into a more casual pose, leaning forward to distribute his weight down his arms which rested on his knees, hunched forward and staring at the ground in his immediate line of vision.

"…_Why_…did you…try to Seal yourself?" Krad didn't immediately respond, and the boy turned confused blue eyes onto him and pursued his questioning with a more desperate tone than he'd meant to use, "You said you'd do anything I asked—and I asked you to stay with me!"

He had known this would be the first thing Satoshi would ask him, yet this didn't make it a question that was any easier to answer. There was so much that had to be gathered from their time together that couldn't be easily shaped into human words—feelings, emotions that were more easily expressed with thought and will than with the tongue.

"I didn't want…to hurt you anymore…" Though Satoshi said nothing in reply to this, Krad knew this would not be accepted as a good enough answer, and reluctantly elaborated.

"Every moment I spent with you…was spent with the goal of earning some form of requited sentiment from you—tolerance, friendship, and a far-off faint hope of…of love…There was never a second that I looked at you that I did not pursue this objective…And yet I tried so hard without truly understanding why. Was it because you were my Tamer, my host? Because you were the last Hikari? Or because…you were my Satoshi-sama…?

"I don't even know when I stopped trying to gain your affection…when I stopped even caring about myself, how you felt about me, and I simply settled for…for loving you on my own, without hope for recompense. But whenever that happened, I realized…that if I ever succeeded in my forgotten goal…should you ever feel _anything_ for me…how selfish it would have been!

"For me, to ask you to deign to notice me, to care for me in any way—how _selfish_! We could not even touch let alone hold one another… I could have borne it, but I would die before I subjected you to that. So I made a decision on my own to cut off my consciousness from yours before I delved any deeper—intentionally or not. Sealing is a host/curse pact—not something that can be attempted without consent of both parties…so I threw together the excuse about the Wing Master to make you hate me again…like before—to grant me permission to carry out the task, so that…I couldn't hurt the one I loved so much anymore…" He raised his palms up and cradled his head in them, massaging his temples in weary thought.

There was utter silence between them when Krad's voice fell away—no birds singing or cars cruising by, not even a faint whistling of the wind through the trees, and Satoshi shifted a bit uncomfortably beside him, before whispering, "…You failed…because you didn't do it in time…"

He pushed himself up off the bench and turned to face Krad fully, who had stopped rubbing his temples to stare curiously at the Hikari child. The blonde let his hands drop back down to his lap and searched the pale face for a clue to his intentions, but none came, until he saw him raise a single palm and lay it on his cheek, cool flesh against cool flesh.

It might have been interpreted as some romantic gesture had the boy been wearing a more content expression on his face, rather than one of mixed curiosity and worry. Krad didn't dare move, instead opting to let the fingers roam down his high cheekbones, tracing over his jaw, before being joined by another set of fingers which explored his forehead, as if memorizing every square inch of his skin, committing it to memory.

Golden eyes closed slowly, surrendering to the darkness and letting the fingers continue over his flesh undeterred. They skittered like spiders down his temples, drawing goosebumps and banishing the tension that had accumulated, then after running parallel down his cheeks again, they met on his mouth, running lightly over his lips, and then fell away.

Only to be replaced by Satoshi's own lips.

As if he'd been jolted by an electric current at the contact, Krad's eyes automatically snapped open, almost desperate to prove the validity (or invalidity) of the brash action that would have been unthinkable of his Satoshi-sama before this. Instead he found that they were, in fact, joined at the lips, with that pale face barely an inch from his own, blue eyes fluttering closed—which prompted the blonde to slide his shut again as well.

It was obvious, a moment into the kiss, that the boy hadn't probably planned it—because he didn't seem to know what to do next, so Krad had to resort to yielding ground and leading him through the "basics", deepening the contact only slightly before pulling back, implying that Satoshi should try the same—which he did without fail. It was a give-and-take experience between them for another few moments before Krad took the initiative to release his host, sensing that the boy who was still a child in so many aspects couldn't help himself.

Their foreheads came to rest against each other, and they took a moment to calm their now racing hearts, before Satoshi spoke, "I think…I've wanted…to do that for a while…" Somewhere in the exchange, his arms had loosely draped themselves over the blonde's shoulders, entangling them in his still-let-down hair, and he idly ran his fingers through the locks as he contemplated his next statement.

"…Really now?" Krad stopped his train of thought, sending it on a new course, "And why is that?"

Satoshi untwined his fingers and pulled back, "I…wondered…what it would be like…if—if it would be cold, sharp, burning…like being a Hikari, like kissing ice…or…or warm, soft, enjoyable, like kissing…Niwa…"

Krad's eyes noticeably widened, and the expected objection came out in a flood of words, "But—you never—you never kissed the Wing Master! You—"

"I know, I know…" He waved a hand weakly at his stammering counterpart, smiling feebly as he stared at the ground. "But it…I always imagined it would feel…like that. Just being around him was warm and enjoyable, so being _with_ him could…only feel that much better…"

Relaxing with the assurance, Krad backed down, voicing his next comment in a more reasonable tone, genuinely curious, "So…which was it?" Satoshi looked up, confused, and Krad couldn't help his usual teasingly seductive tone that crept back into his questioning, "Was it like ice…or like your Niwa?"

Deferring an immediate response, the boy slid back down into his seat beside Krad, leaning to the side so that some of his weight was pressed against the blonde, head resting wearily on his shoulder.

"It was…neither…" He raised a tentative hand to touch his own lips, as if testing them for some trace element left behind which might help him describe it, "Not Hikari…not Niwa…but…not bad…I think I felt…_right_…kissing you…" He paused again, and the hand fell away. "It wasn't a need, like with Niwa… I _needed_ his warmth, _needed_ him… It was more…I just _wanted_ to…no pressure, just felt right…just…"

His words died away, and he suddenly felt very tired—falling asleep here on this bench leaning into Krad didn't seem like that bad an idea at the moment. As if still connected to him mentally, the blonde turned an eye down to the body leaning against him and lifted an arm to make him more comfortable—hesitating only a moment before asking, "If I…put my arm around you…would you push me away?"

He couldn't see the boy's face, but felt him shake his head and reply softly, "No…" And so he did, reaching around to draw the slender frame closer, with Satoshi unconsciously (or perhaps not unconsciously) burrowing in further, one hand clutching the front fabric of Krad's robes, the other the back.

After a few moments passed, Krad was almost certain that the form huddled against him was asleep, until it spoke up, voice slightly firmer, not so sleep-laden as he would have expected it to be.

"Ne…If I…told you that…I loved you…would you forgive me?"

Krad stiffened and turned his upper body slightly to look down at Satoshi, but the boy clung on even more fiercely and refused to look up, as if frightened that the blonde was pulling away in repulsion. He immediately relaxed and soothed the tension, bringing one hand over to run the long fingers through the thin pale-blue hair, smiling wryly. "Forgive you for what, Satoshi-sama?"

"Don't call me that anymore…" the voice returned, slightly annoyed, "I don't…I don't like it when you elevate me like that…"

Blinking a few times and hesitating while he weighed whether or not he could permit himself to do such a thing, Krad eventually conceded, "As you wish…Satoshi…"

The Hikari boy's body relaxed slightly, and he could have sworn he felt a tremor echo into his very bones, but Satoshi finally continued his confession, "I said…horrible things to you…so many times…"

"I deserved them—" Krad interrupted, only to have himself interrupted.

"That's what I told myself," Satoshi continued firmly, tightening his grip on the fabric, "That I hated you, that your pain was nothing, that you'd earned everything…and for a while it worked, because I _needed_ something to hate…and you were always there with me, always endured me…put up with me…And you never fought back—so it frustrated me! I could—I could fight Dark, throw a punch, and he'd punch back. Yell at Niwa and he'd get mad at me for taking my own problems out on him. But I could never get rid of you—even when I wanted to…even when I didn't…or at least I thought so…

"You lied to me again…told me you'd just been pretending to get close to me all this time, trying to make me kill Niwa…and I was so _mad_…you don't even understand how hurt I was!" He looked up now, a sheen of tears making his eyes appear even more like bottomless pools of water, "Because—because the last person I had who hadn't used me or betrayed me in some way…the last one who'd always been with me, comforting me, helping me even when I didn't want help…And all I wanted was for you to leave me alone…forever…

"But…how much it hurt to be betrayed…by you…couldn't compare to what it felt like…when I thought I was going to be alone again…knowing that the first cut was fake. That none of the time we spent together was a ploy to use me to carry out family duty, that you were just as I'd hoped you were…that…we would always be together…And I realized how much worse it would have been if you'd really disappeared…

"So I'm…sorry…for hurting you…and for asking you this…but—please don't leave! I—I want…it to stay like it was…I want you to be with me always! It hurts me too much to let you go…even though it will hurt you just as much to stay…but…" He pulled himself closer, curling into a ball, "_Please_…"

Krad regarded the boy silently for a moment, then slowly untwined their bodies and pulled away, earning a panicky look from his Tamer. Standing before Satoshi, he stared down, a pitiable expression painted on his features.

"I'm sorry…Satoshi…but…I cannot stay in your mind any longer…"

Head shaking back and forth in disbelief, Satoshi reached his hands out feebly, voice cracking, "N—no! No! I don't—_why_! Why can't you—!"

"Because—because, Satoshi…" He leaned forward and closed his golden eyes, a content smile rising to his lips as he pressed them against the boy's forehead, "Because…I do believe that I have been granted a body of my own."

* * *

"You…what?" His eyes could not widen enough at the revelation. "Wh—but—_how_!" 

Krad smiled down at the boy, pulling back and sinking down until the two were at eye level, taking one of the now-shaking hands in his own to act as a source of reassurance. He diverted his gaze for only a moment, admitting, "I don't…really know…truthfully I should be in whatever limbo accompanies my sealing, as I am whenever my host dies or when my use has faded—the ritual was perfect…"

He flicked his eyes back to Satoshi's attentive face, catching a bit of sun in the golden glint, "But not that any of that matters…When I awoke in the chamber, I was perfectly aware of my physical self—which meant you should have been in my mind then, but you weren't." He raised one hand and cupped a cheek in it, "The only conclusion I can draw is that by some grand stroke of luck I miscarried out the ritual—whatever energy should have been used to seal me inside Koku Yoku was instead diverted into fashioning a physical body of my own." He sighed low and cracked a grateful smile, "But, however it happened…who am I to question it?"

Satoshi drank in every detail Krad revealed with a kind of awe that was rarely seen on his features, bright eyed and excited, ecstatic beyond measure. When the blonde finished and pushed himself back up to stand erect, the boy burst forth, "Then—you're…you're really staying?" A curt nod. "You'll stay with me—really?"

Krad had to suppress a light laugh—the boy seemed to almost be regressing from his normally cool, calm state into one of childish excitement, and it suited him quite well. On second thought, when he gave it further attention, Satoshi's normal emotional state was actually _ab_normal for a fourteen-year-old boy—not that he'd ever cared in the slightest, mind you. It seemed for the first time in his life the Hikari child was finally _enjoying_ himself, glad to be alive, glad to be…with Krad.

Reverting back to his own usual teasing, the blonde adopted a posture reflecting deep thought, "Actually I'd thought I'd go and see if the Wing Master would have me…I haven't had a simple proper chat with Dark in _so_ long, you kn—"

_WHAP_

He blinked once, twice, three times before he properly registered what had happened—and by this time Satoshi, who had risen from his seat, had pulled back, looking abashed at the playful smack. Krad looked down at his shoulder—which didn't hurt at all really, it was a light punch meant to bring the blonde back to his senses after his joke—but, well, he'd never been touched by anyone but Dark before, and _those_ times were anything _but_ enjoyable.

"Ah—I…sorry, I just…" Satoshi was under the impression that he'd gone too far, mentally chiding himself for the action, "I didn't mean—"

"No—no!" Krad rushed to alleviate any fears that he'd been offended that might have risen inside his precious former-host's mind, "I only…was surprised…" An embarrassed smile managed to break across his features, "I suppose I shall have to get accustomed to being able to touch you."

Relief spreading over his face, Satoshi relaxed into a smile again as well, lunging forward, "As long as you want…take as long as you want…and…" The relieved smile twisted into an almost devious grin, "I'm glad to finally be able to exact some form of payback for whenever you bother me!"

"A _bother_ am I?" Krad repeated, face twisting into one of mock horror, and he elicited the desired laugh he'd been aiming to draw from the boy as the two turned and began walking up the sidewalk again, bound for the empty apartment—which was about to welcome a new occupant.

The two continued to chat animatedly (well, mostly animated on Krad's part, where Satoshi was content to listen attentively and drink in every moment they were together) as the city skyline rose into view once they topped a hill.

"N—Niwa!" the Hikari boy breathed, shocked, drawing Krad's attentions to follow his gaze to the foot of the hill they'd just crested. And indeed, standing there in a coat that looked too large on him, was Niwa Daisuke, staring up at the pair. When he didn't move to approach the two, Satoshi took the initiative and stepped up his pace as he jogged down the hill—in a considerably better mood now than when he'd last spoken to the Niwa boy. Waving a hand in greeting, he called out as he approached, "Niwa!"

Still the redhead gave no response—barely even acknowledged that he was being hailed save to turn and face the approaching Hikari boy, offering a wan smile. "Good afternoon, Hiwatari-kun."

Satoshi slowed to a halt, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees while he caught his breath, with Krad following up from behind and eyeing Daisuke warily. "Niwa, you—what're you doing here?" He glanced at his wrist to check the time, then realized that he was still in the clothes he'd fallen asleep in (his school uniform, now quite wrinkled) and definitely without a watch, "Isn't it…still school-time? I'm sorry I couldn't come in today—"

"Hiwatari-kun," the flat voice interrupted, and Daisuke turned away from him to look off into the skyline, "You shouldn't be here…Go home."

Satoshi's face fell into confusion, "Niwa…what're you…?" But he was stopped from pressing further when a hand was laid onto his shoulder from behind, and he looked up into Krad's stern face, which was now focused on the redhead.

"Let's…go somewhere else, Satoshi…" he suggested in a tone that made it quite evident it was anything _but_ a suggestion, and he tugged on the shoulder he had his hand on. The Hikari boy, though, was not quite ready to leave yet.

"Krad—what're you—Niwa!" He turned from Krad to Daisuke and called out as the boy began to leave them behind, and reached out. "Wait—don't you…notice anything different?"

Daisuke paused and turned only his head to peer from the corner of an eye at him, "Different…nothing…"

Satoshi pulled back and let himself be dragged a few feet backwards by Krad, soaking in the strange statement, before quickly regaining his senses and firing back incredulously, "But you—what about _him_? He's here—real! Krad is!" He flung a hand backwards to gesture at the being behind him, who was still trying to pull him away from the situation, growing increasingly uncomfortable at the strange atmosphere.

Daisuke narrowed his eyes, which were completely devoid of the normal life and fire he exuded, as if he were merely an empty shell without a soul.

"No, Hiwatari-kun. Krad is not here, he's dead to the world."

Brow knitting in frustration, Satoshi's words grew louder and more frantic, and the blonde actually had to put forth some effort to draw him away. "What're you _talking_ about Niwa! He's right in front of your eyes! Right here! With me! Can't you—can't you _see_!"

The other boy simply shook his head in a pitiable gesture. "No, Hiwatari-kun. Krad is gone. Krad is not with you—will never be with you. Ever again. Ever. Again. Krad is gone. Krad is—"

"_Shut up_! Shut up, Niwa! He's here! He's _here_! HE'S HERE!"

"Satoshi…" Krad tried to calm the boy down, but failed miserably when he turned on him.

"Make him see! Can't you? _Can't you_? What's going on—why won't he see you?" His voice cracked, "_Why_?" He clawed at the robe but was met with only an averted gaze as Krad avoided responding—so the boy turned back to Daisuke, "What's…_with_ all this? Something's not right…not right…" But he was ignored, and the Niwa boy continued walking away from the pair. "Krad…what…?"

"I'm sorry, Satoshi…" He raised his golden head to the sky and closed his eyes, earning a worried stare from his Tamer, "But I think, this world…"

"…What about 'this world'?" His voice was quavering even more now, "What are you talking about! _This_ world?" He gave a sharp tug on one of the sleeves, and gasped when Krad actually did meet his eyes.

He was crying.

"I'm sorry…Satoshi…"

The boy didn't even know if he dared ask, "S-sorry…about _what_?"

"No time, no time…" The blonde head dipped down until it was even with the Hikari boy's, and he wrapped his arms snuggly around the thin frame, embracing him tightly as if holding on for dear life, burying his face in Satoshi's shoulder, "Just…until the end…until the end, stay like this with me…"

Until…the end…? Satoshi desperately wanted to pull back and refute him, to chide him for worrying him once again. "No…no…no, what're you _saying_! Don't say things like that! The end—the end—_what_ end! There is no end! No end, no…no _end_…"

"The end…" a golden voice whispered through tears, "Of our dream…"

* * *

Satoshi didn't remember closing his eyes, but when he next surveyed his surroundings, he couldn't help but notice he was no longer standing outside on a sidewalk under the afternoon sun with Krad's arms wrapped around him. Instead, he was back where he'd woken up not fifteen minutes ago, and was fighting off a severe case of déjà vu. 

He slowly pushed himself up off the floor and shook his head to clear it, then raised his eyes as he remembered doing, hoping and praying that he'd see what he hoped to see.

And he did…yet he didn't.

There, in the center of the room, kneeling in place with his golden head hanging down, was Krad…or rather, some strange image of him. The man's body seemed to glow, flickering in and out of focus like an old television image, as if it were simply…

…Simply his astral form…

Scrambling to his feet as best he could, Satoshi ordered his weary legs to carry him properly—he had to get over there, over to Krad, he _had_ to. Because this couldn't be happening, this cold fear clenching his heart _had_ to be unfounded! He teetered unsteadily for but a moment before dragging his feet forward, feeling as if he had lead blocks strapped to them.

The golden head lifted slowly to take in the sight of his host trying so desperately to reach him, and though Krad wanted just as greatly to be near the boy, he could only manage to slowly shake his head and say, _'No, Satoshi-sama_…_don't waste your time, don't come_…_'_

"I never listened to you before, and I damn well don't plan on starting now!" the boy ground out through clenched teeth as he urged his legs forward, not even noticing that Krad was no longer speaking to him aloud, but was instead once more talking in his mind. And if he'd focused on this fact rather than making his feet move, he also might have sensed that the pressure had returned in his mind, though it was wavering back and forth like a dull headache.

A pained look crossed the blonde's smooth features, and he bit his lip to keep from choking out a sob as he watched his beloved host working so hard, using all his might just to traverse a distance of some mere fifteen feet…just to be by him. _'Satoshi-sama, it's futile, you shouldn't—'_

"_Shut up_!" he snapped, brows knitting in frustration, and there was a slight quaver in his voice that he quickly clamped down on, "I said I'm coming over there, so you just—just shut up!" He frowned and stared down at his feet before remarking in a tone that oozed forced-lightness, "You could make this easier if you'd just come over to me, you know." He gave a soft laugh that hung dead in the air.

Golden eyes slid shut in shame—he hadn't meant for his host to see him like this… The boy was supposed to be unconscious for this part of the ritual; why oh _why_ did Satoshi-sama always have to exceed his expectations? _'I'm_…_sorry_…_I cannot move, Satoshi-sama_…_'_

"That's all right," Satoshi replied smoothly, as if it were the most trivial of matters, purposely skirting around asking _why_ his curse couldn't move, and simply smiled to himself, "I'm almost there anyways." Indeed, a moment later he stopped his attempts when he'd finally gotten within a foot of the blonde, and sank down to his knees so that he was just below eye level, breathing heavily from the exertion.

Krad couldn't look away forever, and when he sensed the boy staring up at him, he felt compelled to give some response, but couldn't keep the pain from flowing forth in the form of very new, yet very real _tears_. _'Forgive me, please_…_please, you weren't meant to see this_…_'_ Words choked in his throat, and try as he might he could not convey his apology across their mental link.

Satoshi gave no reply, merely treating it as if the blonde hadn't said a word, and silently reached up to touch the cheek and wipe away one of the tears that had crested its bank and was snaking its way downward. He frowned when his fingers passed through the image, muttering, "I liked it better when I could touch you…it was much easier to do things like wiping away tears…" Not looking into the man's eyes, he asked lightly, "Ne, Krad, why can't I touch you?" No response, and he turned his attentions to the other cheek, as if checking to see if perhaps that one was solid. "I could touch you before Krad. Tell me why I can't touch you now." His tone was breaking now, desperation leaking in, and it was growing more and more difficult to keep up his façade.

He let his arm drop back to his side, and his breath hitched in his chest before coming out in fast pants. "_ANSWER ME_!"

'_It's_…_the Sealing, Satoshi-sama_…_'_ Krad responded at last, his mental voice ragged, and he covered his mouth to keep in a sob.

"No…no, it's not that, I don't think…" The Satoshi who refused to accept what Krad said was back in control, apparently.

'_Satoshi-sama, I—forgive me_…_but in only another moment, I'll be—'_

"IT'S NOT TRUE!" Satoshi screamed, and fell forward on his hands, blue eyes quivering in fear and anger, "I told you to tell me _why_, so stop your damn _lying_! Stop—stop saying things that aren't true! Tell me why I can't touch you anymore!" He hung his head and clenched his hands in fists, pounding the floor as if he might be able to force it to answer in Krad's stead. "_Answer me_! It's not the stupid Sealing! Because—because we were just outside! And you were there, and I was there, and you had a body, and you weren't in my head, and—"

_'That was just—' _

"_STOP TALKING IN MY HEAD_!" he shouted in fury, clapping his hands to his ears, and it made his stomach lurch how he only heard his own voice echoing off the stone walls surrounding him. He took a deep breath here and continued, "You were there, and you had a body, because the Sealing didn't work, and we were walking together and touching together and talking together and—and—_why_! Why can't I _touch you_?"

That was it—if the boy kept speaking like this, all desperation and abject refusal to accept, it was going to completely destroy Krad's carefully constructing defenses. If he asked just _one_ more time…

"Ne—Krad…" His voice was soft and understanding again, and he reached up once more to slowly trace the line of the blonde's high cheekbones, "Why can't I—"

'_Just—STOP IT!' _he exploded at last, tears flowing forth unhindered now, without even a semblance of trying to hold them back. _'Stop asking me questions you already damn well know the answers to! You just—KNOW! You know why, so stop asking! I can't give you any answer that's different from what you already know is true—I'm leaving! It's the Seal, understand? Stop running from it, there's nothing I can do!' _He closed his eyes and sobbed pathetically, _'I can't_…_I can't stop it, so please_…_please don't ask me to do something you know I can't_…_'_

There was a scuffing sound, and he felt the boy move nearer, head resting in the air where Krad's shoulder would have been if it were solid, "…Will you hold me?"

'_I told you_…_please don't ask me to do things I cannot_…_'_

The blue head shook, and an unexpected smile crept across the flushed features as tears began to make their way down Satoshi's cheeks as well, "No…not now…but when I see you again…will you hold me then?"

Krad balked, and had not the heart to tell him that they would not be meeting again, that the Astral void he was about to be banished to was not one the living were permitted to visit. Instead, he replied softly in a rasping mental voice that cracked, _'Yes_…_I swear with my whole being that I will hold you when next we meet_…_'_

The smile widened, and Satoshi whispered, "Liar…" He closed his eyes, forcing more tears out. "Ne, Krad…"

The blonde didn't answer, and thin brows knit as he called out again. When Krad still refused to respond, he whipped his head up to reprimand him, when he realized the reason he'd not been answered:

Krad was gone.

"K-Krad…?" he called out, frightened, eyes darting from one side of the room to the other, his only company the towering black monolith that was Koku Yoku. He scrambled to his feet and turned to and fro, continuing his frantic cry, "Krad! _Krad_!" No reply…not that he'd really expected one.

"You just…_leave_ just like that?" he choked out, fiercely wiping his eyes of the tears that simply wouldn't stop, "Don't even—don't even say anything, just leave, not even a goodbye or—or—"

His eye fell on the artwork, and he slowly stepped towards it—the piece radiated a dark heat that was rapidly fading as the Astral that had been fed into it left the physical plane for good. Laying a hand on its vertical face, he frowned more deeply.

He hated his family more than anything in the world right then. He'd gained nothing but pain and torture and heartache from them, in more forms than he'd thought such feelings could come in. And not just his life had been destroyed by them, no—countless lives, from countless generations forced to bear the weight of the Hikari name…had all been lain to ruin by the selfishness of his forefathers…

"_Kuso_…" he cursed softly, and leaned into the artwork, sliding down to rest his head against its still-warm face. Krad was in there, somewhere, now… Dark, too, probably…Niwa would be feeling it soon. Another life destroyed by his family.

"…Why can't I touch you…?" he asked of no one, and stroked a single finger down the black stone face. "Ne, Krad… Why can't I…"

Hikari Satoshi cried, and did not stop for a very long time.

He'd never even told him he loved him.

_fin_

_

* * *

Author's Notes_: The '_fin_' is kinda misleading...as of course there's an epilogue. So, let's start the slaughter, shall we? Next week: said epilogue. 


	18. Epilogue: Minage

_Galatea_

_Epilogue: Minage_

"How far away will you go?  
Is it so far away that you can never come back?  
I want to see you but I can't; I just want you to tell me.  
I won't forget any of the final tears you gave me."

_Hamasaki Ayumi, "Ever Free" _

* * *

"You're not _still_ mad at me, are you Dark?" 

Apparently the thief was, for he maintained his silence stoically, and Daisuke frowned, stomping a bit louder on the pavement towards home in a childish fit. "Fine!" It seemed as if nothing was going his way today; first Hiwatari-kun had been absent—_again—_so he hadn't been able to speak to him regarding Krad's late-night visit, and Dark was _still_ giving him the silent treatment, three days later. Their tiff hadn't even been serious enough to merit being termed such, just a difference of opinion.

Dark's words had actually sent a chill through Daisuke, though, with the slow, uncertain manner with which they'd been delivered. So unlike Dark, so unfamiliar.

'_You know, if he did Seal himself_…_' _he'd murmured.

"_If he did…then what?"_

The deep pause that had followed had been enough to swallow them both whole. _'_…_I'd be gone too.'_

Dark was _not_ going to leave, he continued to remind himself—and no stupid fight was going to keep them apart. "I've put up with you for this long, hear me?" he reminded the being inside his mind, not really expecting a response, "So just keep playing your silent treatment for however long you want—you'll come around eventually, and I'll be waiting for you."

He frowned when he didn't even receive the usual wave of agreement he was almost always returned, and angrily swung the front gate open, marching up the steps to the front door. Without even an, "I'm home!" he paused only momentarily to slip off his shoes and stalk into the living room.

Except that his one-sided argument and Satoshi's absence from school had sufficiently distracted him from the fact that he still had to run his mother's gauntlet, and he now found himself with a face-full of pie courtesy of one of the traps he'd triggered.

"_Dai-chan!" _Emiko's reprimanding voice called over a hidden speaker, "_How on earth could you have let that happen? Honestly! One of the oldest tricks in the book, I almost second-guessed adding it to your regimen today! What if that had been something more dangerous, like some poison or explosive? Really, get in the kitchen this instant and clean up! This means double for tomorrow you know, and two demerits!"_

Head hung low, he slunk into the kitchen, now quite more depressed than he'd been upon entering the house. He hastily wiped the cream from his eyes and nose, and Emiko met him halfway, mopping him up with a wet towel, "M—Mom!" he spluttered, pushing her away, but she wouldn't be deterred, "I can—I got it—Mo—"

"Don't tell me you're not ashamed of yourself?" She released him, letting him finish wiping his face, and crossed her arms, stepping back from him into the kitchen, "I've a good mind to tell your grandpa about this—how disappointing! What's gotten into y—"

"I just—I had a bad day, all right?" he groused, slipping into a chair at the kitchen table, "I wasn't thinking…"

When he gave no further explanation than this, Emiko eventually prodded him, "Well it must have been quite a bad day if you let a trap of that level get the best of you—what was it, Dai-chan?"

He shifted his gaze, pouting once more and almost glad to have an audience. "Hiwatari-kun…he's been avoiding me lately. And…and Dark's not talking to me anymore, cause of some stupid fight we had…"

Blinking, the mother pursed her lips and bit back a retort about the Hikari child, instead tacking onto Dark. After all, it was her duty as the thief's mother this incarnation to be sure he stayed on perpetual good terms with his Tamer. "And…what was this fight about, that he's taken to giving you the silent treatment?" She took the towel away from him and continued to gently mop at his hair and shirt while he elaborated.

"Just…stupid stuff…" he edged, "He thinks…something bad is gonna happen soon…and I told him he was just worrying too much. But he kept saying it, and…and it was nothing, really. We just disagreed. I didn't even think it was that big a deal." Resting his head on the table, he muttered, "Guess we're not as close as I thought…"

Emiko smiled gently, running her fingers through her son's messy red locks, "But you _are_, Dai-chan, you know that. It's just a little quarrel—Dark's far too pig-headed and stubborn to give up easily if he thinks he's right." She paused, blinking, "By the way…what exactly _does_ he think is going to happen that's so bad?"

Daisuke shot back up, heart racing like a cornered animal—he _really_ didn't want to have this conversation with his mother…she'd definitely freak out if she knew that Krad had come to his room two nights before and he hadn't said anything to her about it! "That…you know, that Krad's going to try something soon. He was all vague about it—" _Liar_, "—so I told him he must've just been paranoid, what with them having to fight every time we go out on a job now…"

"Hmm…" Emiko mused, eyeing her son critically, "Is that it?" He nodded frantically, and she pushed herself back up, stepping towards the basement. "Then let's see if there's anything downstairs that might help. One can never be too careful about these things."

Breathing a sigh of relief that his ruse hadn't fallen apart, he followed obediently. "Where are Dad and Grandpa?"

Emiko flipped a switch at the top of the stairs, setting the torches below alight, and descended with her son. "Kosuke-san was napping on the couch in the living room, and your grandfather and Towa-chan went out an hour or so ago to catch the afternoon market specials. They should be back…any…minute…" Her voice trailed off as she stepped into the ceremony area, brows creased in worry.

"…Mom?" Daisuke called, stepping up from behind her, "What's wrong?"

"…It…no…" She shook her head furiously, then whirled on her son, gripping him by the shoulders, "Dai-chan—_when_?"

He blinked in confusion, "'When'…? When _what_?"

Her gaze was wild, "_When_ did you and Dark stop speaking? When was the last time you sensed him? _When_, Daisuke?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, words coming out in sputtered gibberish, before he managed to find his tongue, "I—I guess…Friday…Friday evening. Or, Saturday morning, rather. It was early…" She was shaking now, and released her grip, "…Why?" The worried quiver had transferred to his voice now. "What's wrong, Mom?"

"No—no, stand here, right _here_." She jerked him forward into the center of a small circle scribbled in chalk on the ground. "Don't move from that spot—Mommy has to see something."

He wouldn't have moved even if she hadn't said anything. "But—what's _wrong_? What're you—"

"_Hush_, Niwa Daisuke!" And he shut right up; his mother was rarely so sharp unless it was something important. Or dangerous. "Where is it…where is it…" She scoured the shelves behind her for a moment before snatching a thick tome off the end, hastily opening it and flipping through pages. Running a finger down what she deemed the right page, she muttered something quickly to herself before snatching up a small scepter from a table beside the bookcase. "Don't say a word, and stay perfectly still now."

Daisuke gulped, but complied, heart racing as he watched his mother perform some spell he was certain he'd never seen before. He'd thought all those stupid ceremonies he'd had to sit through most of his life were just for show, to pacify his mother and her power trip. To think she actually knew something about the powers she called upon made him feel quite ignorant indeed.

A moment passed in stark silence, and though not a word had passed her lips, he'd been watching intently enough to know she'd mouthed some phrases. She opened her eyes again, shining with tears, and the scepter dropped to the ground with a loud clanking thud, before she, too, slipped to her knees, hand over her mouth.

Praying it was fine to move now, since she seemed finished, Daisuke dashed over to her side to steady her, but rather than accept his support, she grabbed him into a fierce hug, holding him close as only a mother could and rocking back and forth with him in her arms. "M…Mom…?"

"I'm sorry…_Dai-chan_…my Dai-chan…"

"…Why…?"

She raised a trembling finger, drawing his gaze to an empty glass case which hung on the wall…one which had not been empty when last he'd seen it. "…_He's gone_…"

* * *

It didn't take long, really. What with the tide, and the recent storms, and luck. No one said anything about it, it was bad luck, you know. The desk at the back left of his classroom had been empty for days, and the Hikari boy's nameplate had been surreptitiously removed from his shoe locker. When Daisuke approached one of the faculty about this sudden turn of events, he was given the runaround and hastily told that the boy had, "Transferred—to another district." 

No one told the students anything. But they found out all the same. Such a newsworthy event being kept off the airwaves for long? Preposterous!

But no one wants to hear about such things on the five o' clock news. That's just disgusting. _Filthy_. How on earth could they air images like that?

_

* * *

Where does art go when it dies? I know it must go somewhere, for art—art has a soul, and anything which has a soul must find a place of eternal rest or else float in limbo forever…__ Heaven? Hell? Or_…_someplace entirely different_…

… 

_Where does art go when it dies?_

_I should very much like to know_…_for I think I should like to go there too when I die_…

* * *

The next time he saw the name "Hiwatari Satoshi," it was plastered across a banner running along the bottom of the television screen on the evening news. "Tragic" and "dreadful" and "unthinkable of a fourteen-year-old boy" were words and phrases he didn't like hearing linked to his friend…but was all the same accustomed to doing so. 

His mother had sighed softly, shaking her head, and announced that they'd all certainly attend the funeral, it was the least they could do.

For some reason, Daisuke suddenly recalled the saying, _"Everyone speaks better about a man after he's dead."_

* * *

"You knew?" Daisuke gaped at his father. "You…you knew that Krad…how he felt about Hiwatari-kun, and you didn't _do_ anything!" This whole situation…all of it could have been resolved so differently! There might not have been a reason for Hiwatari-kun to…go to such lengths… 

"Well…I didn't really think it was my place…" Kosuke smiled sadly, rubbing his hands together as he sat on the couch, "All his life he'd had people messing around in his affairs, running his life or telling him how to live. I figured this time…he could make his own decisions. I knew Krad was serious in his feelings, and well…how Satoshi-kun wanted to respond to that was up to him. Accept them, reject them…it didn't really matter. At least he would have made that decision _himself_. And just being able to experience that much…I think would have made him happier than anything else…" He sighed and pushed himself up. "But…maybe I was wrong…"

Kosuke started to walk back into the kitchen to speak to his wife about what to do with the artpieces, when he caught his son's expression. The boy was shaking, fighting back tears with a blank expression on his face. "…Daisuke?" the man called out worriedly.

One tear crested its banks and started down his now-flushed cheek. "I think… I think I may have done something…_really_ bad…"

* * *

"You were right," he admitted to no one. "I didn't believe you, so I guess I apologize now. You were right. You knew him better than me. 

"Knew both of them better than me."

Niwa Daisuke was alone now—in more ways than one. He was alone in body, because there was no one else in the cold apartment at the moment, and he shivered as he wandered over to the thermostat and adjusted it to a new setting of a few degrees warmer. He was alone in mind, because…because he was an idiotic ass who couldn't see past prejudice—and hadn't even tried to. Because he couldn't trust others to run their own lives, because he was the stereotypical nosy Niwa, and now knew why the Hikari clan despised them so much. After all, if the Niwa clan hadn't butted in on that ritual so long ago, Dark and Krad never would have even existed in the first place.

"Why does he keep it so _cold_, though?"

There was nothing particularly special about this apartment on first glance: fresh laundry in the washer waiting to be hung out to dry, dirty dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, papers strewn over a desk waiting to be filed—only leaving the observation that everything was "waiting"…waiting for…for the apartment's owner to return and hang them or wash them or file them.

He was not the apartment's owner. That hadn't yet been decided. Something about "respect for the recently deceased" and a thousand stale taboos. So he had the privilege of waiting around here as long as he fancied, really. Standing in the living room of an empty, dead, decaying apartment, calling out to no one, and with no one answering back.

The floorboards creaked hauntingly underfoot as he wandered back into the bedroom down a short hallway, completely bare of anything that might have made the abode seem homier—as expected of Hiwatari-kun. He gently eased the wooden door open to Satoshi's room and called his name again tentatively, instinctively checking the bed for a sleeping form—if he pretended like nothing had happened, maybe eventually he'd believe himself. His eyes scanned the room as he eased in before falling onto the bedside table.

"Hiwatari-kun's…glasses…" He fingered the bifocals gingerly and turned them over in his hands—he'd never seen the Hikari boy without them, despite the fact that they were merely an accessory, so why would he have taken them off? It was all so confusing…

An old book lay open on the bed to his left, and he sank gently down onto the creaking mattress and lifted the tome into his lap—it was a collection of Greek myths. Scanning the pages, a slip of paper bookmarked a page three-quarters of the way through, and he flipped to it, gaze snapping to a single highlighted sentence in the middle of the page, and he read:

"_They say that when Pygmalion loved his statue Galatea, she came alive inside. Her heart of stone began to beat and throb with a passion unknown_…"

His voice died away, and he fingered the folded slip of paper, about to shut the book again, when his gaze crinkled as he realized something was written on it, "_Gone to find the gods_…"

Pursing his lips, he folded the paper into a small square and shoved it in his pants pocket. "Aphrodite…is dead, though, Hiwatari-kun…"

He wandered back through the living room, turning out lights as he went. The laundry could wait, the dishes too. If he had to wait, then so could all those inanimate objects that would never even know their loss.

Casting a last glance around the room, he shut the front door and locked it back with the key he'd managed to garner from Inspector Saehara after a long talk. His mother would be angry if she ever found out about _that_.

Then he stepped into the elevator at the end of the hall. And he never bothered Hikari Satoshi again.

_

* * *

Author's Notes:_ Yes, all right, let the stoning commence. I give you full permission :D But really, did you expect anything else from someone with a penname like mine? I was purposefully vague in this epilogue, because, well, because. I don't tell you how he died (though I did make allusions here and throughout the story that, if you think long and hard, give you the answer, like a riddle), and don't tell you what happens after this. But for that—there is a reason. 

Because it's not over yet, of course. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. "_They're DEAD! How on earth can you continue a story with your two main characters dead?_"

Well you'll have to wait, won't you? And no, I'm not bringing them back to life or anything like that. Satoshi really is dead, and Krad's…whatever he is, sealed and such. But there is, I'll tell you, quite a bit that happens after this, and Satoshi and Krad are indeed still the main characters. That being said, I'm not sure when it'll get posted. It's turning out to be considerably longer than _Galatea_ itself was, with more scenes and interactions between characters, and thus will take me longer to do. I spent nearly a year in all on _Galatea_ before posting it here, and this one will probably take longer, as there's definitely more going on in it.

When I began writing this "omake," it started out as a little something to satisfy anyone who wanted a happy ending, so I threw in a few scenes and added a twist to allow it, and thought that was the end of it. But apparently not, said my co-authors, and it's now blossomed into a behemoth that's looking as if it might never end! It is indeed still about Satoshi and Krad, and will feature pretty much all the fluff that you were denied here in _Galatea_ itself (and of course some angst too) in what I hope is an acceptable follow-up to this series. Please look forward to it, and thank you all for your support!

For the curious who need a little something to whet their appetites, here are some snippets of scenes to expect:

* * *

Satoshi…will get drunk: 

"Ah—hah…this is…I…well, you see—"

Satoshi, though, wasn't about to let Krad get away that easily, not when he was starting to feel so playful for some strange reason. He leaned forward to reach the ear of Krad who was still trying to explain away the kiss and whispered deviously, "Two words: _Bed_._ Room_."

…

"…_Thanksforthelovelyeveninggoodbye_!" He shot out the front doors as quickly as his legs could carry him, silently cursing the fact that he didn't have wings anymore, with Satoshi in tow.

* * *

And he will crossdress: 

"Just look at that boy!" Saehara mooned, looking on in rapture as Satoshi and his "escort" glided across the ballroom floor in perfect tandem. "What an inspiration!" He sighed wistfully as Krad stole a kiss from his partner, "Even going so far as to kiss another man on the lips to complete the illusion of his undercover identity…now _that_, men, is a true officer! I hope you all strive to be like Hiwatari! Back to your posts!"

* * *

Dark will angst over unrequited love: 

Krad perked up at this, "Now that brings up an interesting point… Why _did_ you refrain from directly aiding that boy in breaking us up?" He stood and paced in thought, "I'm sure he must have all but ordered you to provide some insight into just how to keep me from bothering Satoshi-sama…"

Dark ducked his head, distracted. "I just…wanted to see…"

Cocking an eyebrow, Krad was not about to be put off, and crossed his arms, pressing, "See _what_?"

"If…if it could really work…you know, a curse…and a host…"

Krad stopped his pacing, arms falling back to his sides—of all the responses Dark might have offered, and no matter how much he'd teased the thief about it…he hadn't seriously thought Dark would respond that way. He quickly regained his composure, though; no matter their temporary truce now, he would not lose face. Fighting back a sneer, he replied curtly, "Well, when I have an answer, believe me—you'll be the first to know."

* * *

And the boys will celebrate belatedly at the Sapporo Snow Festival! 

As Krad's golden voice died away, its dulcet tones still echoing off the walls of the small room, Satoshi repressed a shudder, breath coming in short gasps. "_Gods_…" he breathed softly, clinging to the blond like a life raft, barely even able to support his own weight, "If you make love like you sing…I'll never be able to walk again…"

* * *

So, can't wait? Good! Neither can I! Feel free to leave your emails or whatnot if you'd like to be kept abreast of the progress of this omake (which is more like a sequal, but I'm so used to calling it an _omake_, I just can't help it!). Until then, thanks for your readership! 


End file.
